


Fix Him

by Strailo



Category: Aven - Fandom, Avengers (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Multi, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shower Sex, Team as Family, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 52
Words: 61,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strailo/pseuds/Strailo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When one Nick Fury slapped a file down before Phil Coulson, he never thought for a minute that it would be the best thing to happen to him in the world.</p>
<p>In fact, he feared for his sanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fix Him 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 1  
> Characters: Director Nick Fury, SHIELD Agent Phil Coulson  
> Word count: 1,456  
> AN: I went back over this story and decided to just edit it into one long ass story that kind of jumps from time to time in the grand scheme of things. So please excuse the dust as I fix things and change titles and the such.
> 
> Still the same Fix Him, but now just one long story instead of several smaller stories. 
> 
> *~*~*~*

Stepping into the office of one Director Fury, Agent Phil Coulson frowned heavily at finding that his boss was standing before the large windows that curved around the side of their helicraft. The large black man was standing with hands behind his back, muscles tense and glaring out of the white clouds that were floating past them.

 

“Director Fury, you wanted to see me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the man as he turned around. A black eye and an eye patch landed on him as a smirk spread over thin lips.

 

“Yes, I did,” Fury rumbled, moving to his chair and sitting down at his desk. Resting his arms on the desk, he waved for the other to sit down. “Sit down please. I have a new assignment for you, Coulson. This new assignment has driven several of my agents to nearly quitting on us instead of working this assignment anymore.”

 

“Sir?” Coulson queried, sitting straight at the fact that several agents had already quit over an assignment.

 

Fury picked up a file and tossed it so it landed before Coulson. “Fix him. I really don’t care how you do it or how long it takes, but I need you to do it,” he stated.

 

Coulson blinked several times at his box before reaching out and pulling the file to himself. By the looks of it, the file only contained the barest of information but it looked to have the formal permission to get all of the files that was on his new assignment. Flipping through the pages, he found that he was to work with Special Agent Clint Barton, he was barely in his twenties, had been picked up by Natasha Romanoff and liked places that were high up.

 

“Sir, what exactly has he done to drive his previous handlers to the brink of quitting, if not something worse?” he asked, gazing over the rather long list of agents that had been assigned as handlers to Barton. “And what has happened to them?”

 

Fury sat back in his chair and rubbed at his chin as he thought over the question. “Let’s see. One was annoyed and pestered into drinking, while one is now attending therapy sessions to get over a newly discovered fear of arrowheads. Another has moved to the archiving unit to hide away while one female agent is now a very proud lesbian after stating that she may like a dick but she can get that with a girlfriend wearing a strap on.” He paused before smirking “In the middle of the cafeteria.”

 

Fury’s tone almost came off as if he was just discussing the weather. Coulson choked on his air at the very fact that just from those few examples, he could already see the pattern of how Barton scared or annoyed his handlers away. The man probably picked and found the person’s annoyance factors before using it to drive them off.

 

“Director, I have to ask. Why me?” Coulson finally choked out, brown eyes wide as he stared at the other man.

 

“You’ve been able to not only fix, but deal with, some of our most troublesome operatives and have been the best handler amongst our people,” Fury stated as he laced his fingers together. Resting his hands and arms on his desk, he stared hard at Coulson. I’m confident that you can fix Barton and be his permanent handler.”

 

Coulson sighed and rubbed at his face before looking down at the file once more. Reading over it, paying closer attention to the details, he hummed lightly. According to the sparse details, Barton didn’t trust easily, which added to his need to drive people away from him. As to why he did that, it was speculated that it was because of his past and childhood even though they knew nothing outside of what they had been able to discover about him.

 

Barton seemed to only really trust Romanoff, as much as he could trust any one person. There were few people that knew where his off base apartment was and even fewer who were allowed past the well trained and heavily armed front desk guard. Romanoff was able to get past him but didn’t have a key nor the codes to his security system to get in.

 

“He seems overly cautious about his privacy,” Coulson finally said as he started to read over the formal permissions forms. “I will have full access to all of his records? This includes the notes from his various therapy sessions and interviews?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed together, glancing up at Fury.

 

“Computer access to everything to, including video files of missions and classified mission reports,” Fury replied.

 

Coulson nodded his head and looked back down to the file. “I’m going to need all of it sent to my rooms so I can go over them without any fear of someone going over the files without express permission,” he finally said.

 

“I thought you would say that,” Fury chuckled, getting a glare from his agent. “The files are waiting for you to come collect them to take to your new suites in a security heavy area. Your personal items I’m sure you can move yourself,” he stated, handing over a second file, a smirk dancing on his lips.

 

“Great, just perfect,” Coulson grunted, glaring at his boss slightly before turning to the new file with his security information and the layout of his room. “I take it the high perches are for Barton mostly.” Fury nodded, only getting a raised eyebrow.

 

“The quarters are the ones that Barton’s handlers receive. The rooms with perches are ones he has access to and the ones that you will be having most of your meetings with him and his team in,” Fury told Coulson.

 

“I see,” Coulson mused, closing both files and standing from his seat. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to pack my stuff up and move before I am able to meet with Barton later. I would like to be somewhat settled into my new suite of rooms by then,” he stated.

 

Fury nodded his head. “You have five hours to move and get settled,” he told Coulson. “Barton will be back from a solo mission in about four hours time and another one will be needed to shower and debrief.”

 

“I understand,” Coulson said, nodding his head politely to the director. He turned and left the office, holding both files in one hand. He nodded to the occasional agent as he walked down to the archival rooms, finding the agent that had been driven down there by Barton. After getting a snorted ‘Good luck’ from the agent and signing for all of the files to be sent to his new rooms, he left the archives.

 

From what he had gathered from the archive agent, Barton didn’t just distrust handlers but tended to outright hate them. The hate came from his second handler who had tried to change him and how he worked, which had put the team that worked with Barton on certain missions into dangers path. The agents had come home alive, hurting and wounded but alive; Barton was switched to mostly long distance missions with the occasional B and E to plant things or steal information.

 

The handler though had been stuck in a far, far away place and Barton started to go through handlers like a sick person did tissues.

 

It was enlightening to Coulson but also worrisome to him, making him wonder just how he was going to fix the man. No matter how much Fury seemed to believe that he could do it, he didn’t know how to fix such an intense hate for a handler. Sighing, he stepped into his older quarters and smiled at the fact that there were a pile of boxes that were waiting for him to use.

 

Deciding that he would make a decision about how to handle Barton later, Coulson set about packing everything into the boxes, starting with his bedroom and ending in his kitchen. With the boxes properly labeled, he was quick to gather some junior agents to move them to his new suite of rooms where the boxes of information on Barton and his team waited for him.

 

As soon as everything was transferred, he put away the cold items and sat down in his chair. Coulson drew a box that was marked with the first month of Barton’s history and started to read about what made his new project who he was. After three hours of reading, he was welcoming Barton and Fury into his room and watching as the man moved with a deadly grace that made Coulson’s libido perk up in interest.

 

He. Was. Fucked.

 


	2. Fix Him 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him 2   
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Pairing/Characters: Barton  
> Chapter: 2  
> For: CutsyCat  
> Word Count: 1,455  
> AN: Please note that this is for someone. She set the tone for the story itself and told me what to write. 
> 
> Anyways, again, excuse the dust going on. Thank you and enjoy.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Putting cups of coffee down onto the table after he had dug out his coffee maker, cups, filters and coffee, Coulson sat down in another seat as he watched the weary looking Barton poured flavored creamer into his cup. The archer was strong but still leanly muscled, his brown hair curling around his face but was still well controlled. Dark eyes took in everything with well controlled sweeps, even as he tested the flavor of his coffee.

 

“You’re to be my handler now right?” Barton finally asked, cocking an eyebrow upwards as he gazed at the other man. Coulson nodded his head and took a taste of his own coffee. “I see. What exactly are you going to do now that you are?”

 

“Going to do?” Coulson asked in return, wanting clarification. He had a feeling that he knew what the archer was asking of him, but he still wanted that confirmation before answering.

 

“What are you going to do as my so called handler?” Barton asked. Fury sat back in his chair and watched as the two conversed,

 

“I plan on starting by going through all of the files that are sitting in my office currently. There are at least fifteen boxes in there that are full of reports, tapes, and psychological profiles, which I do expect to be at least ninety five percent bullshit,” Coulson stated. Fury smirked behind his coffee cup.

 

Barton leant back and finish his still hot coffee with a quick drain. “And after you finish doing that?”

 

Coulson smirked. “I would actually take the time to talk with the group that works with you. After I do that, I will be setting up a soft mission so we can do that together and see how things go,” he said, stirring his own coffee with a spoon. “Would you like some more?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, please,” Barton replied, handing over the coffee cup. He was rather surprised at how Coulson was acting, not used to a handler that was going to take the time to talk with the team, much less work with them without the need to try and change them or impose his will on them. He was more used to never meeting his handlers officially until the first planning meeting and then having the person trying to change how they worked, usually screwing them over in the long run and the mission was turned into a ‘need to fix right the fuck now’ mission.

 

A couple of the handlers had also tried to change how they communicated, again, screwing them and the mission over. This always prompted Barton into figuring out how to get rid of the handler while he and the team went back to doing missions their usual way.

 

But Coulson hadn’t done that. Barton knew that the man had just gotten the assignment of being his handler not five hours ago but already he had a plan of figuring out how things worked with him and his team.

 

Taking his coffee cup, Barton nodded his head and fully took in the way the man moved and looked. Coulson moved with the silent steps that all the agents learned to move with, brown eyes sweeping back and forth to access any and all threats that could happen. His dark brown hair was trimmed to look fashionable while still being short enough to be hard to grab. His body was built like a fighters, a boxer’s body really, meaning he was broad and with muscles but still lean enough to look unassuming.

 

Fury had told him before that they had come to Coulson’s suite of rooms that the man was smart, well trained and flexible, which made him one of the best. He had also told the archer that the agent had worked with and helped smooth out some of the rougher field agents. Not only that, but Coulson had a degree in something or another that translated into him having a brain for tactical maneuvers and planning.

 

All around, one Phil Coulson was a smart, competent handler, which meant that for the moment, Barton was going to hold back on forming an opinion.

 

“How did today’s mission go?” Coulson asked as he refilled his and Fury’s coffee cups, taking his seat once more.

 

Barton hummed in thought. “Simple take out in Thailand. The assets of our target has been seized, the guy is dead and his hostages taken cared of,” he stated.

 

“No injuries to you and your team?” Coulson asked, mind turning over the information as he got it from the archer.

 

“Some bumps and bruises, one sprained wrist which means our hacker is stuck in the truck and our backup hacker is fielding it for a while,” Barton stated. The term stuck in the truck meant that the person would be in a hidden room, usually two miles minimum from the target, or in the carrier, working from a computer console. Fielding it just meant that the person was going from working from a desk job, so to speak, to working next to the people who did the dirty work.

 

Sitting back, Coulson broke down the aspects of the teams and agents around them. Those who worked the consoles and computers were trained to fight, but only when it became absolutely necessary while they prepared to run. There were those who did the information gathering and were broken up into two groups: those in the fields and those behind the computers. Hackers fell under that group, at least beyond those field hackers that worked with the various teams. The field agents and the trainers for new agents were interchangeable. It was the handlers that were rare due to the fact that they needed specialized training in basic aspects of computers, hacking and tracking.

 

Only agents that had been a part of the set up under Fury for over five years could start that training. It took a good year for the training to be done and by then, the sixty some agents originally chosen had been whittled down to four or five that would then be taken in under the guide of an older handler. By the time they were ready to go out on their own, only two or three were left.

 

Coulson smiled lightly. “Who do you have on your team usually?” he asked.

 

Barton hummed as he thought for a moment as his eyes narrowed. “Let’s see, two hackers, one fielding it, one truck, three fully trained fielders, a couple extractors and a handler,” he ticked off.

 

“So a balanced team that can do any mission set before them then,” Coulson summarized.

 

“Correct. Barton and his team are our best strike and extraction team. They can also pull help from any quarter should they need it, which makes things work even better for them,” Fury stated, breaking into the conversation.

 

“That’s good to hear,” Coulson said, nodding his head with a smile. Barton watched with assessing eyes as his new handler took in the information that he was getting and asking intelligent questions to get every bit of it that he possibly could. “What type of missions have you taken?” he asked.

 

Fury turned to the archer to answer that. “Mostly ones where I need to take out various targets, be they buildings or people while the team does the rest of the aspects, usually removing people that are innocent,’ he said, shrugging. “A few of close and personal, but not a whole lot of them.”

 

“So you and your team prefer long distance instead of up close work,” Coulson mused, nodding his head. “Good to know that. I’ll set up a soft mission in a couple of weeks so I have time to talk with the team and get to know everything that I can learn beforehand.”

 

“That sounds like a plan to me,” Fury said, approving of Coulson’s approach to dealing with his most troublesome agent. Barton just hummed and finished his cup of coffee before standing.

 

“I’m going to go now if you don’t mind. The mission may have been short but the flights were long and I’m suffering from a serious case of jet lag,” he stated.

 

“Very well,” Coulson said, nodding his head and standing up, walking the archer to the door. “I’ll send you a message about when we need to meet about the soft mission,” he told Barton.

 

“That’s fine. Until then, are we off?” Barton asked as they stood before the door.

 

“Yes. Keep up your training and catch up on your paperwork and sleep. Don’t forget your physical,” Coulson stated. Barton nodded and left, leaning his handler and Fury to talk on their own about whatever they needed to talk about.

 


	3. Fix Him 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him   
> Chapter: 3  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Character: Coulson  
> Word Count: 1,620  
> For: CutsyCat  
> An: Dust is still going hard. Though considering I’ve gotten three of these set out of the way, I’m surprised.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Sitting down before his personal desktop computer, one Phil Coulson narrowed his eyes at the screen before opening his pre-created report form that he used for most of his reports. He had just gotten done with another new mission with Clint Barton and his team and already he could see just how they worked, even more so along with the other two missions that they had done.

 

The soft mission that they had done had been talking out a building and a target that was a low level human trafficker. He had learned that at least three people stayed in the surveillance van with him while at least two agents worked the ground, Barton working his pre-chosen vantage point.

 

Phil had also quickly learned that he would need a communications line just for him so that the other agents didn’t have to listen to what Barton said in an attempt to get under his skin.

 

It ranged from questions about the sounds that he tended to make to outright sexual words meant to embarrass and make him uncomfortable. The questions about him and who he could possibly be fucking around within his personal suite of rooms often left him sputtering and moaning almost as if he was in pain, trying to get the other man off of the subject.

 

“ _So, come on, Coulson, tell me,” Barton purred over the communications link that Coulson had set up for them, “are you nailing some pretty little woman or not? There’s no cameras pointed at your door after all, much less any in your rooms.”_

 

_The question caught Coulson off guard, prompting him to choke on the sip of water that he had just taken. Clearing his throat of the water, he finally just moaned and rubbed at his face with one hand. “Barton, aren’t you supposed to be aiming for our target?” he asked, hoping to get the archer off of the questions that he seemed to get answered._

 

“ _No worries there, Coulson, I have him in my sights,” Barton promised. Coulson switched his screen to the one that was on Barton and shifted, crossing his legs with a scowl at the fact that the first thing he noticed was the fact that the archers uniform showcased the man’s ass in a way that was pure sin. “Now, come on, tell me.”_

 

_Coulson shook his head with another moan. “No, I’m not screwing anyone. I’m not interested in anyone on top of that at the moment either.” Taking a swig of water, he sighed as he watched Barton look at the camera with a look that clearly said he didn’t believe him. “I’m not interested in anyone at the moment,” he reiterated. ‘Unless that someone is a man with a great ass that I would love to grab a hold of. But like hell am I going to say that to you,’ he thought to himself._

 

“ _Right…” Barton drawled, pulling an arrow free from his quiver and took aim. “Here comes our target,” he stated, going from teasing to on the clock within a second of seeing the man they wanted._

 

“ _I see him,” Coulson returned, switching to another camera. The man that they were after was well known for kidnapping and selling people who weren’t going to be missed by many, but really, he was one of the low men on the totem pole. They had already hacked into the files, stolen any hard drives that they needed, and then freed the people that had been held in another place._

 

_Now they were going to kill the idiot, have their man pull the fire alarm as all the doors but the ones out the back locked and then they would blow the building sky high. Already a gas leak was working its way through the building and to a cigarette that was smoldering in a bathroom. It had all been set up before it had been handed to the team._

 

_Luckily Barton and his team was very good at setting up things fast and getting ready for the missions even faster._

 

_So here they were, Coulson sitting in a room near the attack point with three of the team while the other two finished off the rest of the final bits of work. Barton was on a roof, taking careful aim as the target stood before his car, texting frantically._

 

_Coulson watched the text as it was typed appearing on another screen. “They found out about the cleared out warehouse,” he said, flipping to the main channel so that everyone in the team could hear him._

 

“ _Trapping the line,” one of the hackers stated. The two hackers were holed up in one room, their third was holed up in the other, watching the computers that they were connected to for anything that went out or in. “Following it now.”_

 

“ _Make a note of who it is if you can. We’ll need names,” Coulson stated, recording what they were seeing before looking to a large TV and flipping through the various cameras in the building, making sure that everything was set up just right. “Alright, hit the fire alarm would you?” he asked, watching as one of their inside guys walked past one of the fire alarms and pull it before walking away as the pre-recorded voice that had been changed out for the original instructed the employees to head for the back exits._

 

“ _Opening vents and upping the gas flow,” the second hacker said after three minutes._

 

“ _Barton, take care of our target now,” Coulson instructed as he counted. The archer’s arrow struck within seconds, going through the man’s neck just as a spark started, rushing through the building and taking it down under a minute. A slab of burning concrete fell on their target, destroying all evidence. “Alright, everyone, fade and get back here. We’ll pack up and hunker down,” he told them._

 

“ _Copy,” came over the line. He switched back to his and Barton’s communications line as he started to run covers for the various hacks that had gone on and shutting things down. Thirty minutes later, everyone was together, Barton having gone back to needling him, trying to get him to admit to this or that._

 

“And of course the man somehow gets me to slip about liking men when I want a relationship,” he grunted, shaking his head with a snort. “How he was able to do that, I will never know how.”

 

Standing up, Coulson slowly stretched his arms up over his head with a low grunt, his eyes falling shut before he relaxed with a moan. Shaking his head, he walked over to his kitchen and eyed the coffee pot, wondering if he could get away with another cup of coffee or not. Deciding not to chance staying up all night on a caffeine high, he found a decaffeinated herbal tea that he particularly liked. Placing his kettle down onto the stove after he filled it with water, he leant against the counter and thought over Barton once more.

 

So far the files he had gone thought had all been filled with Barton and his need to annoy and bug his handlers the entire time they were assigned to him and his team. But they did all agree that he would be professional when it was needed of him.

 

Eying the pile of boxes, he snorted once more.

 

“And I’ve only gone through six of the damn things,” he muttered to himself, removing the tea bag from the packaging and dropping it into his cup. Coulson wondered if the previous handlers and even tried to get to know the team and Barton before they had tried to change things around. By the looks of what he had read, he highly doubted that they had.

 

So his plan was to get to know Barton, get to know the team that supported the archer and stay as cool as possible when it came to the man he was supposed to be watching. Coulson was not going to quite on the man as other’s had, and he would prove that fact no matter how much the man tried to get him to run away.

 

Grabbing the kettle as it started to sing, he poured the hot water over his tea bag and pulled it aside, putting the kettle onto the stove. He allowed the teabag to seep for a few minutes as he rubbed at his face before once more grunting.

 

“Now all I have to do is figure out just how to get Barton to open up to me,” he muttered, a wan smile working its way over his lips. “This will be so fun, oh so much,” Coulson continued.

 

Dumping his tea bag into the sink, Coulson walked over to his computer station and sat back down at the computer to continue to work on his report. Once he was done, he created the visual report from the recorded video and transferred the audio to a CD while also burning to a DVD disc. Printing the report out twice, he finished it all by labeling the CD and DVD cases with the correct information before packing them into an envelope while the other copy was placed into a locked filing cabinet.

 

Picking up his coffee cup, eh placed the envelope into a mail chute, watching it disappear from the chute and moved to his kitchen. Rinsing out the cup, he put it into the dish drain and paused. His eyes narrowed and swept around the room, feeling as if he was being watched by someone or something.

 

Shaking off the feeling, he flipped off the lights and moved to his bedroom to get ready for bed.

 

 


	4. Fix Him 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him   
> Chapter: 4  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> For: Cutsy  
> Character: Clint  
> Word count: 782  
> AN: This one was fun to write. *cackles* I’m hoping that you enjoy this. Really.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Perched on a rafter in his apartment, legs crossed and eyes half closed as he thought about the man that had been assigned as his new handler, one Clint Barton was looking thoughtful. He and the team that worked with him on his missions had a rare couple of weeks off from doing any missions, and would only be called in should their services be needed for something big.

 

It had been nearly two months since Coulson had been named his newest handler and they had met for the first time. True, he had seen the man around, knew of his reputation but he hadn’t really cared all that much about the guy. He was just another handler that worked with some of the best teams, rumored to be one of those handlers that worked with some of the hardest agents that worked for them.

 

It amused Barton to no end that Fury thought that the handler known as Phil Coulson could fix his need to drive off the idiots that tried oh so hard to fuck their missions up. He hadn’t liked a handler since his first one. Every handler that had come after his training handler had somehow fucked things up one way or the other, be it missions or be it trying to ruin his team by changing people out for ones that didn’t know how he worked.

 

Of course, there had been one handler that had tried to change their mission types which hadn’t worked and instead backfired on them rather quickly. Especially since a few times the missions almost got only not the archer but also his team, which then set Barton on a personal mission to get the handler to move onto a new team. It usually wasn’t that hard to do considering he could learn very easily just how to drive them out of their minds and away from his team.

 

But he hadn’t been able to figure out just what made Coulson tick outside of the fact that the man had this innate need to know how to work with them and how to get along with them while on missions. He rarely let slip anything personal about himself, which made it hard to learn how to get under the man’s skin and even harder to learn how to get rid of him.

 

“You would think that Fury would have gotten the hint that I don’t want a damn handler. We do just fine on our own,” Barton muttered, scowling heavily before he shook his head. “Why do I need to fucking well deal with a handler that won’t be of any use to us anyways?” he continued to mutter, sliding down off of the rafter and landing on his apartment floor with a barely there thud.

 

Standing up, he headed to the highly protected, heavily secured computer and picked it up before once more climbing up to the rafters, using the built in rock wall that had been put in for him. Once he had settled back into his place once more, he flipped open the laptop and connected with the servers in the helicarriers main computer area.

 

Pulling up Coulsons file, he was able to quickly hack into the more private information, thankful that his own team hacker had taken the time to teach him how to do so after their first new handler had fucked them over so badly. Staring at the rather sparse information uncovered, seeing a good lot of it was hidden under Fury’s ID and knowing that not even their best hacker could get past those protections, he rubbed at his stubbled chin.

 

Barton had found the man’s address and his phone number that he used for work, which would be useful. Smirking, he logged out and closed his laptop, aiming and tossing it onto his couch down below. Making sure that it had landed safely and without falling off of it again, extra cushioned floor or not, he followed after it, using the wall to get down with an almost supernatural ease.

 

He headed into his personal bedroom and bathroom to make sure he didn’t look like a scruffy agent that worked for an agency that no one knew about, changing into a pair of jeans and a shirt with long sleeves. Once his hair was fixed, he left the apartment, whistling.

 

Barton had a plan on how to get under one Phil Coulson’s skin and that started with heading to the man’s house to really get to know him. Or at least make his eyebrow twitch as he tried to figure out what he had done to make him be assigned on Barton as a handler.

 


	5. Fix Him 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him   
> Chapter: 5  
> Fandom: Bleach  
> For: CutsyCat  
> Character: Clint  
> Word count: 921  
> AN: This one was fun to write. *cackles* I’m hoping that you enjoy this. Really.

 

He was starting to hate anything to do with white file boxes that were marked with neatly lettered information. That was all there was to it.

 

Grunting as he dropped another box done onto the pile of boxes that he had gone through, Coulson ran a hand through his short hair and glared at the other 5 that he still had to go through. He knew that they mostly contained the video files from previous missions that Barton and his team had done before along with debriefing videos and videos of their trainings. But that still didn’t mean he wanted to go through them. He had already read the reports as it was.

 

But as Fury had told him once before, the videos tended to give more information than a written report and he knew that was true. That didn’t mean he was looking forward to dealing with it. Grunting once more, Coulson picked up the next box and dropped it onto the coffee table before flopping down onto the couch and pulling his laptop close. Pulling out the first disk, he placed it into the player and started it up, legal pad and pen in hand to take down notes as he watched.

 

He had already gone through ten other legal pads, all of them filled with his small, scrawling letters and he felt he had a more rounded view of Barton, or at least the way he handled his handlers. The man had a wit that was at turns sarcastic and cutting, both of which he had been a victim of during the missions that they had done. Of course, Barton seemed to enjoy trying to annoy and embarrass his handlers into leaving the team for good, something he had gotten down to a fine science by the sound of the reports.

 

Coulson had decided to create a more comprehensive file on Barton, not trusting the handlers before him to have created any kind of file that was impartial due to the archers need to drive them away as fast as possible. So far, all he knew was Barton’s wit and that he could aim without looking at the target once he has said target in his mind’s eye.

 

It had amazed the handler for about two seconds before he had moved on to other aspects of what Barton could and could not do. He had learnt a lot about the archers skills just by watching him and being stalked by the man.

 

Barton was good at sneaking up on people and seemed to enjoy making them jump if he didn’t like them. He preferred places high up, almost nesting in certain areas, and disliked it when he was forced to sit down in an actual chair on the ground. He would stalk people when bored, usually when he wasn’t training or out on missions and when he was in the helicarrier. He would also tease those people he liked, thought it was often a gentle teasing and meant to make their days better.

 

It was driving Coulson crazy trying to figure out just what made Barton tick and what he was going to do next in an attempt to get him to quit. Of course, the questions he had been asked had gotten him to slip up and admit to the fact that he was more interested in men than he was into women. Something that Barton seemed to love poking at, usually about him taking home some guy and having a night of fun.

 

He just hoped that Barton didn’t start asking if he was a bottom or a top. Coulson didn’t know if he would be able to deal with such a question without sputtering and then admitting to it in some way. He had no doubt that Barton would then quite happily tease him about it, ask him about his few free nights and anything else that interested him in asking.

 

Groaning as he realized that he had missed half of the video while lost in thoughts, he stopped it before putting his laptop aside and standing up. Running his hands through his hair once more, he headed for his kitchen and emptied out his coffee pot, getting rid of the sludge that was the days before coffee and removing the used coffee grounds.

 

Once the pot and the filter basket had been rinsed out, he placed a new filter into the basket, filled the water canter with fresh water, put the pot on the hot pad and moved to his coffee cabinet.

 

Looking around, he found the coffee that he wanted and pulled a few of the single serve packages down. Opening them with a pair of scissors, he poured the grinds into the filter before replacing the filter basket into place. Just as he was flipping the pot on, a knock came at his front door, making him frown at the fact that someone had found out where he lived.

 

He didn’t think anyone knew just where he was, but he supposed it would have been easy to get it if the person knew how to hack. Sighing and gazing longingly at the coffee that was slowly dripping, Coulson stepped away from the coffee pot and from his kitchen, moving to the door and opening it.

 

He groaned at the man that greeted him. “Only you, Barton, would be able to find out where I live and invade my apartment,” he stated, getting a shit eating grin from the archer. “Only you.”

 


	6. Fix Him 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him   
> Chapter: 6  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> For: Cutsy  
> Character: Clint  
> Word count: 662  
> AN: This one was fun to write. *cackles* I’m hoping that you enjoy this. Really.
> 
> Please remember that I am playing catch up/reposting chapters from what I posted earlier. Once I get the posted chapters fixed and ready to go, I'll be continuing to post this story after Sing Me a Lullabye is complete, along with one-shots that are waiting for me to actually edit and write.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> *~*~*~*

 

He was stalking through the vents once more, a miniature quiver on his back and crossbow in hand along with a pile of papers that was attached to one hip. Barton smirked as he paused to gaze out of one vent exit point, finding an agent putting away files and working through a pile of papers that was probably as tall as he was. Pulling a piece of paper free from his papers, he attached it to an arrow before taking very careful aim with his crossbow and firing. He smirked at the yelp as the agent went down, holding his leg where the purposefully dulled arrow hit and was sticking out.

 

Smirking once more, he continued on with his mission to annoy Coulson into doing something, anything beyond write a few reports and tell him not to do it again otherwise he would end up on cleaning missions. Sighing, Barton pouted as he continued on to his next target, wondering if he would like the next person or not, already having shot near a few that he did actually like instead of actually shooting the poor fool.

 

He had decided on going around in the vents, working his way through the Helicarrier and shooting at people to get them to actually pay some attention to what was going on around them instead of just going about their day. It was how one went soft after all and he was bored. And a bored Clint was a dangerous Clint.

 

Smirking to himself, Barton continued on with his vent trolling, eyes thoughtful as he continued to shoot and aim at various people as he thought about Coulson and what had been happening for the last few weeks. He had gotten to know the man, at least well enough that he could guess what he was going to do at any given time.

 

It still annoyed him that he wasn’t able to drive the guy away much less find out what got under Coulson’s skin enough to make him leave he and his team alone. Really, all Barton wanted was a handler that just took the reports in, gave them their chosen style of mission and leave them the fuck alone.

 

But Coulson wouldn’t just stand by. He ran the missions well, Barton could grant him that, and let his team do what they needed the way they needed to do it, which was good, but Barton still didn’t want a damn handler hovering over them. He didn’t know how the man worked half the time anyways, seeming as if he was too damn flexible in the way he worked.

 

Shaking his head with a growl, Barton grabbed another piece of paper, attached it to an arrow and took aim once more, hitting near Hill and making her jump up from her desk, gun in hand as she swept the room. She growled as she spotted the arrow and grabbed it, pulling the paper free and reading it.

 

She growled once more and stalked off to Coulson with the sheet of paper, finding several people heading for the medical unit with arrows sticking out of them or with arrow created wounds. Finding Coulson, Barton following after her in the vents, she slammed the paper down the man’s desk and snarled at him.

 

Barton snickered as Coulson picked up the paper and read out loud, “You really should pay more attention to your surroundings…”

 

“Fix him already will you?” Hill snarled before stalking out of the office, eyes narrowed and back straight.

 

“But I don’t think I could fix him even if I wanted to,” Coulson muttered, Barton’s eyebrows furrowing together at that piece of information. It looked as if he was going to be watching his handler a bit more closely than he had been for the last while. Settling in, the archer watched as his handler balled up the paper and tossed it into his waste paper basket and went back to work.

 


	7. Fix Him 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him   
> Chapter: 7  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Character: Coulson, Barton  
> Word Count: 722  
> For: CutsyCat  
> AN: Well, this is fun. ;) I’m loving writing this series, I really am.
> 
> *~*~*~*

*~*~*~*

 

Signing off on another mission report that had come across his desk, Coulson hummed softly and drew another one to him, flipping it open. He had been working on through various reports and requests for the last two hours, signing them off and putting them in the outbox that the office helper came and emptied out every so often. He tried to ignore him as he came in and out, dropping off reports or picking them up, but it was rather hard since the guy tended to try and pause and flirt with him.

 

Coulson had a feeling that the guy would be another one that ended up with an arrow that stuck out from somewhere. It always seemed to be the ones that worked very closely to him that always seemed to end up hurt the worst whenever Barton went on one of his sprees of shooting at or around people. The last one had just been last week and both Hill and Fury had bitched at him about the fact that he wasn’t controlling Barton like they wanted him to do so.

 

It was kind of pathetic considering that he didn’t want to control the archer, but instead wanting to let the man grow and learn on his own as he wished, helping him and guiding him as needed.

 

Sighing, Coulson sat back and closed his eyes, eyebrow twitching as he watched some dust fall from the vent, knowing that Barton was once more watching him. Not that the archer knew that he knew that he was there, but that didn’t really matter to him. Just knowing that he was being stalked was enough to put him on edge.

 

He had first noticed that the other was following and watching him via various vents around the helicarrier but had decided to ignore it in favor of seeing what the guy would end up doing in the long run. So far, Barton had done nothing but stalk after him, watching him through the vents and occasionally shooting people when he felt they needed refresher courses in their training.

 

‘ _At least he doesn’t slack off on his other duties,_ ’ Coulson thought, smirking to himself before standing up. He smoothed down his tie as he moved to where he had set up a small coffee station and shifted through the various bags and packs of coffee and teas. He picked a chocolate flavored coffee from the collection and placed it into his single serve maker, amazed once more at the inventiveness of mankind when it came to such creature comforts as coffees and teas.

As the coffee perked, filling the air around him, he looked up slightly at the vent, making sure to not be noticeable in doing so. His eyebrow rose as the fact that the dust had stopped falling, Barton probably noticing that it was with every breath and having moved. Either that or he had wiped off the dust with one his bits of cloth that he tended to carry around.

 

It was quite amusing really the way Barton carried around clothes that he could use to dust something. But Coulson knew that it also came in handy at keeping fingerprint evidence to a minimum along with making sure that he didn’t sneeze at an inopportune moment.

 

Picking up his coffee cup once more, he padded back to his desk and sat down, sipping at the drink with an appreciative hum of pleasure. He was going to enjoy his cup of coffee, ignoring the fact that Barton was moving to a new vent in his office. Luckily none of the vents were above his desk, so he didn’t have to worry about breach of confidentiality, but it was amusing that Barton was watching him the way he was.

 

It was almost as if the man had a puppy crush on him but Coulson knew that wasn’t it. Barton just wanted to know how to get under his skin and drive him away from the team, even though that wasn’t going to happen.

 

Not even if Coulson had wanted to move onto a new team, but he didn’t want to move onto a new team. He rather liked annoying one Clint Barton by being unflappable. This included just ignoring him as he watched him from the vents, much to his amusement.

 


	8. Fix Him 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Chapter: 8  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Character: Clint Barton  
> Word count: 662  
> For: CutsyCat  
> AN: Another one down. Kinda shorter than planned but fluffy none the less. *hugs all*
> 
> *~*~*~*

He had been stalking Phil Coulson once more through the various vents, moving smoothly through them, knowing just where he could place his weight so he didn’t cause it to squeak, evenly moving over the mental on his belly. But he also knew that at the moment his handler was in a meeting with Hill and Fury about how things were going on between them.

 

Finding the right vent, he perched over it and gazed down over them. Coulson was staring at a file, his fingers skillfully shifting through the papers as he spoke about what sounded like the missions that they had gone on lately. It sounded as if his handler was praising him and his team, especially the way that the team worked together.

 

It made Clint smirk at having his decision on not to truly drive away Coulson just yet prove the right one.

 

“So, Barton and his team is good enough for the moment?” Fury asked, sitting back on the couch, legs crossed and one arm thrown over the back of the couch. “There is no need to replace or re-train any of them?” he continued.

 

Coulson shook his head, handing over the file in his hands. “No reason that I can see. I know that Barton’s previous handlers have said that some team members should be retrained or replaced but I find that they are well trained in their areas along with the basics of others, like all agents that are field trained,” he stated in reply, sitting back in his own arm chair.  Barton shifted in place and continued to watch, eyes narrowed. “The handlers from before just tried to force Barton and his team into missions and positions that did not fit them in any form.”

 

“So I’m seeing,” Fury rumbled as he stood to walk over to Coulson’s desk and place the file down on it. “I have often wondered what his previous handlers had lied to me about, or left out of their reports. I believe that I need to have some handlers retrained as to why you do not lie about or leave out details in a report, verbal or written,” he mused. Coulson chuckled lightly, knowing that they would be under Natasha to do that particular bit of training.

 

“Indeed, Director,” Hill said, speaking finally from her place in another arm chair, having been taking down notes. “I’ll pull up the list of previous handlers for you, sir.”

 

“I have that list along with summaries of each handler along with what they did during their times as Barton’s handler,” Coulson stated, picking up another file from the small coffee table that the couch and arm chairs surrounded. He handed it to Fury with a grimace. “I have no idea how they passed their handlers tests with the way they acted around him. It was as if they never once did their research about him or his team,” he said.

 

“So I’m starting to see,” Fury grunted, eye narrowed at the files before grunting once more. “You’re doing well with them than. That’s good.”

 

“Yeah,” Coulson hummed, frowning at his ceiling as it groaned a little. Barton tensed and tried to slither back from his spot only to go stock still once more as the ceiling groaned again.

 

“Shit,” he breathed out before the ceiling gave out under him and dumped him out onto Coulson’s couch. Fury, Hill and Coulson were all on their feet with hands on their weapons, ready to draw them at a moment’s notice.

 

“Barton? Are you alright?” Coulson asked first, breaking the silence surrounding the room.

 

Barton groaned and let his head drop onto the cushion before his face, muffling his words. “Yeah, I’m good. Just wasn’t expecting to be dumped out of the vent,” he said, garnering amused looks from everyone.

 

“They’ve been working on the vents, Barton, leaving some of the plaster weak” Hill told him, getting a low moan.

 

“Just my luck,” Barton complained.

 


	9. Fix Him 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Chapter: 9  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Characters: Phil, Coulson  
> Word count: 683  
> For: CutsyCat  
> AN: Another chapter edited, another one updated.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Coulson was sitting behind his desk, flipping through his latest pile of paperwork and keeping people out of his office. He had walked into his office nearly an hour ago and had found that Barton had crashed out on his couch. He was on his stomach in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, meaning that he had just come in from the solo mission that he had been on for the last few days. By the look of the man, he had showered, changed and crashed out before Phil had walked in, waiting for him.

 

He had just smiled and moved to sit down so that his agent could continue to sleep in peace. Phil had been working on the paperwork that had been piling up for the last two weeks as Clint slept quietly, buried under a blanket that his handler had placed over him after a few minutes of being there.

 

The first hint that Barton’s sleep wasn’t as peaceful anymore was his leg twitching and kicking outwards. Coulson looked up from the report that he had been reading from another team he handled and frowned as he paused mid-signature. The archer went still once again, eyebrows furrowed together before he kicked out once more.

 

Putting his pen to the side, Phil stood from his chair as the other male started to growl and thrash about on the couch, flipping onto his back before going still again, body sprawled. Moving around the desk, the handler walked over to Barton, moving slowly before sitting on his coffee table. He knew better than to actually touch him but words were usually were a good idea.

 

“Barton, come on, calm down,” Coulson said softly, Barton getting the blanket fully off of his legs. He whined lowly as he buried his face into the pillow under his head after he had flipped over onto his stomach again. “It’s okay, Clint. It’s just you and me here. There’s no one here,” he soothed, reaching out with one hand, moving slowly and continuing his string of soothing words, before running his fingers through the surprisingly soft hair.

 

Barton whined and leant into the touch, his face grimacing, still in the grips of some nightmare. Continuing the soothing strokes and calming words, Coulson moved to sit down next to the archer, feeling him press close to his warmth. He kept both up as he watched the other man come down from the nightmare, his eyes worried.

 

True, they hadn’t been what you would consider friends, any history between them still too new for them to even be close to good friends, but he still cared for the man. He cared for all those who he worked closely with and those that were under him as his agents. This included Clint Barton, even though the man worked to make his hair turn grey before it was it’s time.

 

“It’s okay, Clint, nothing can get you in here,” he promised, smiling as Clint finally came free from his nightmare. Moaning, he once more buried his face into the pillow, arms curling around it as his handler pulled the blanket tight around him with another soft smile. Silently sighing, Coulson shook his head and continued to pet the archers head, amazed at the trust that was being shown to him.

 

He knew that his agent rarely let any others see him when he felt vulnerable and was awed by the fact that Clint was doing so.

 

Not only was he sleeping on his couch, but he also had a nightmare that Coulson had been able to sooth for him. He hummed and stood after several more minutes of petting the soft hair, moving back to his desk and sitting at it once he was sure that there wasn’t another nightmare coming.

 

Finishing with the signature that he had been in the middle of, he set the finished paper aside and continued to work on his paperwork, knowing that when Clint woke up, he would never tell the other man what he had seen.

 

And he didn’t mind it one bit.

 

 

 


	10. Fix Him 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Chapter: 10  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Character: Coulson, Fury  
> Word Count: 631  
> For: CutsyCat  
> AN: Another one done! *bounces happily and cackles*
> 
> *~*~*~*

He was thinking. Rather hard all things considered. Not that he really had much of a choice in the matter since his nurse was watching him closely and had threatened to tie him down to the bed and sedate him until he was completely healed.

 

Barton knew for a solid fact that she would do that to him.

 

Sighing, Barton wiggled in his bed to find the most comfortable position as he continued to think about how he had landed in the medical unit of the Helicarrier. Again.

 

He had been on another mission, this one a solo mission with just his handler as his backup since it was just supposed to be a quick in and out job. At the time, he had been wary of only having one Phil Coulson with him seeing as he didn’t know how his handler did under pressure in a backup position, much less anything after all.

 

Oh, he knew that the man was a tactical brainiac and had scores on the range that were almost as good as his own were. But his physical training had been unknown to him along with his field training. But he knew now.

 

The mission had gone ass up just as Clint had been getting ready to leave the office that he had stolen the retrieved files from when a guard had gotten the drop on him. Getting knocked out had not been on his list of things to do that night, much less get tied up and being monologuing between getting smacked around.

 

What he hadn’t known was that while he was turning black and blue, his rib getting broken along with several cracked ones and a cracked femur, Coulson was slinking through the shadows. The man had somehow missed most of the guards easily while he tranqed the ones he did come across and couldn’t get around. He ended up shooting the guy from the back and saving Clint from even more monologuing and pain.

 

To Clint, the moment Coulson had come around the corner, missing his jacket and tie, gun pointed out before him, a grim look on his face, was the best moment in Clint’s life out of so many moments in his life. From there, his handler had somehow gotten him out while another team had gone in to clean up the people and information. Once he had been safely in the transport van and given the okay to pass out from his injuries, he had done so as Coulson had started to take care of his wounds.

 

When he had next woken up, he had been taken cared of and stuck in bed with lots of time to just think. He had never run into a handler that would just jump into helping him or his team. But not only had Coulson jumped into working with his team, but he had also saved him from could have and would have turned into a very long and very nasty torture session.

 

As he had learned via his computer, Phil Coulson wasn’t just another handler, but rather he was a fully trained field and desk agent. He kept all aspects of his training up to date and was found in the gym often so he could keep in shape. He was in the top five percent of all active agents, in both categories, which was amazing.

 

All around, Coulson was a surprising man. Not only had he made his skills seem underrated, but he had also known not to actually try anything until he got to know the team and Barton.

 

Clint groaned and rubbed at his face with a grunt. He supposed that he had just had to admit that handlers had their uses after all. Phil Coulson more so than others.


	11. Fix Him 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him   
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 11  
> Characters: Barton, Coulson  
> Word count: 615  
> For: CutsyCat  
> AN: More to come.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Laughing as Natasha tossed around some of the new recruits with surprising ease, Clint relaxed back on his perch and smiled to himself. While he had been cleared to start a minor training regiment under the careful eye of his handler, he was more often found in one of many perches or on Coulson's couch as he did paperwork. No one dared to go into his office when the two were in it otherwise they would end up on the wrong side of a dart gun. Who wielded it changed often.

 

But at the moment, Clint was perched on a beam while Coulson was watching from a hidden ledge that was especially designed for those trainers who wanted to watch their people.  The handler was watching and musing about the rather interesting information that he had gotten from the two friends.

 

Like most of the agents, he had thought that Clint had brought Natasha into SHIELD’s employment but apparently they had been wrong in that aspect. Of course, the wrong information had been spread by the two friends with Fury’s blessing and knowledge. It had been placed into their files that Fury kept in his personal file cabinets that were kept locked and barred from nearly everyone without a pass.

 

They did it that way to protect the two agents and to stop anyone from following after their trail in any way. Being able to read the real file though did show Coulson just how trusted he was with Barton’s and Romonaff’s history.

 

Looking back down at the file as Clint called out suggestions for Natasha, Coulson smirked and flipped the page, reading over the list of wounds that the two had come back with. By the looks of it, they had beaten each other black, blue and bloody before they had been brought back in. Between the two of them, they had concussions, two black eyes, several cracked ribs and five broken ones, two cracked femurs, cracked finger bones and full body suits of bruises in various shades of blacks, blues and yellows.

 

But they had come back with respect for each other, and Clint had joined SHIELD with a rather lovely, flowing signature.

 

Since then they had put out the rumor that Romonaff had brought Clint in as a new agent. It helped that for a long time, only Fury and Hill knew about the two of them, at least during their training. When their presence was finally confirmed, the rumor had already been established, letting them continue to work in relative place.

 

Looking up from the file in his hands, Coulson turned to gaze at Clint, smirking at the man as he tossed darts at the now running agents. The smirk on his face made the handler’s stomach suddenly flip flop, forcing him to look away as he flushed slightly.

 

Coulson had noticed that he had been reacting to various looks, most of his responses telling him that he was falling with every mission and talk between them. He could already tell that it was going to get very hard to deal with Clint without resorting to the more stalkerish abilities to gather tapes and photos to feed his need for the man.

 

He moaned and rubbed at his face with one hand. Coulson was not going to enjoy what was yet to come, he just knew it. It was a feeling deep within his gut.

 

Already he wasn’t liking what was going on, but had the feeling that he wasn’t going to enjoy the coming feelings any more than he liked the ones he had now. Especially since he knew that Clint didn’t return his feelings.

 

And didn’t that just suck.

 


	12. Fix Him 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Chapter: 12  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Characters: Fury, Coulson, Hill  
> Word count: 710  
> AN: Ahhh, another one down. :3
> 
> *~*~*~*

He could feel the headache that was creeping up on him with every ranted word, making him rub at the bridge of his nose with a soft moan. Coulson looked up from behind his hand as Fury paced back and forth before his desk, ranting about his current pet agent, one Clint Barton. Also known as Hawkeye.

 

Ever since he had taken Barton on as his agent, Coulson had dealt with more complaints in a six month period than he had dealt with when it came to any other agent, brand new or old. First it had been those who had been hit by those arrows with a note attached to it saying that they needed to pay attention to their surroundings, and from there it had gotten worse. The rants had come from anyone from the lower level agents who had had trained under him for a time all the way up to Agent Hill.

 

Finally, after a time of dealing with the people as they came, he had taken to instating a rule that all rants were to be in a report form before they were allowed to rant. The amount of people ranting had gone down drastically since then. But now, he was forced to listen to Director Fury rant about Barton’s newest annoying activity.

 

Which was driving Hill to drink and neglect her vast amount of paperwork according to him.

 

“Sir, if you could just calm down and talk to me without ranting at me, I can help you with your problem,” Coulson finally sighed, rubbing at his temple with a huff. Fury growled something before sitting down in a chair.

 

“It seems that your agent is trying to turn my assistant into a giggling schoolgirl.” Coulson sighed once again, rubbing at his nose.

 

Okay, so it was the other way around. Hill was being turned into the woman that she was under the facade of a cold, heartless, well trained agent. And that was driving Director Fury to drink since he had never thought that Hill was soft and loving when she wasn’t working.

 

“Sir, he is just spoiling her to make up for driving her to near homicide last week,” he said, reaching down to one of his desk drawers. He pulled out a bottle of good whiskey and two cups before standing from his chair and walking over to a small refrigerator, finding the ice. Placing the ice in the cups and pouring a bit of the whiskey, he said, “As it is, she landed five new agents in the medic bay after that last stunt he pulled. I know about the gifts since I gave him permission for a day trip in New York so he could buy them.”

 

“I do not need a giggly Hill in my office. Especially one that blushes and coos over the damn things,” Fury grumped as he took one of the cups. “She keeps looking all... all... all...”

 

“All woman sir?” Coulson suggested, getting a growl and pout from his boss, not that the man would ever admit to actually doing something like pouting. “You have to remember, that no matter how hard or cold she may act or seem, Agent Hill is still a woman. All all women do like to be spoiled, especially when it comes from a good looking man who is not only desirable but single. She is getting attention as a woman, a friend no doubt, but still as a woman. It’s a nice stroke to her ego and self confidence,” he continued with a slight smile.

 

Fury huffed and slumped back in his seat and started to sip at his whiskey, Coulson going back to his paperwork, hiding his amusement behind the papers. He had to read and sign off of the rant that the director had dropped onto his desk before going off on his verbal rant after all.

Coulson had known that when he had taken Barton on as one of his new pet projects and agent, he would have trouble with ranting agents.

  
He had just not expected a ranting Director Fury to be part of those who came to his office to rant and rave about the archer. It was definitely new for the man.

 


	13. Fix Him 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Chapter: 13  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Characters: Clint  
> Word count: 673  
> For: CutsyCat  
> AN: Almost done playing catch up on this and almost done editing. Yay!
> 
> *~*~*~*

Barton watched over the reconstruction of Manhattan from a mostly stable rooftop, amazed at just how much clean up was able to go on around him. It had been nearly three months since the attack of Loki and the Chitari, three months since the Norse God of Mischief had been caught and dragged back to Asgard for trial. Three long months since everything had been turned upside down and inside out for all of them.

 

The world now had new hero’s and knew just who they were, welcoming them for the most part. Thor was the sweetheart of most of the world while Captain America held the American’s hearts in his gentle hands. Tony Stark was still America’s loveable playboy, despite the fact that he was happily dating Pepper Potts still. Bruce Banner was mostly hiding in one of Tony’s buildings, working on his little green problem when he wasn’t working on helping the rest of the world get better from the unknown problems and illnesses.

 

Natasha was around somewhere, doing what she did best while he watched over the clean up with a few other SHIELD agents. Clint was also helping them clean up where he could, otherwise he was perched on a building, high up above the rest of the rest of the world, out of the way. It allowed him time to relax and just watch everyone around him, his mind finding peace that he so often couldn’t find.

 

His mind often turned to Phil Coulson, turned to the day that he heard that he had been killed by the mind controlled Loki. Phil Coulson, the one man who could work with him, could stand next to him and all of his moods, dead.

 

Of course, he had been under the influence of that staff of Loki’s at the time and hadn’t heard about his death until after his head had been smacked hard against a metal railing. The headache that he had ended up with had been made worse by the gut wrenching knowledge that Phil’s easy smiles and quick scowls were never going to be directed at him again.

 

His stomach had twisted itself into knots while his heart had squeezed tight, almost as if a person had reached into his chest and wrapped their hand around it.

 

Reaching up to his chest, Clint rubbed at his chest with a wince at the well remembered pain. None of them had had the chance to truly mourn for the fallen agents, much less Coulson, having to take care of Loki and the Chitari so soon after.

 

Getting tossed around by giant bug like aliens that wanted to do nothing more than destroy Earth and leave it barren had kept his mind off of all sorts of things, like a dead Phil Coulson. But heading to the infirmary and landing next to a barely alive Coulson after they had finished a quick lunch had set everyone off on Fury before the supposedly dead handler had croaked out a shut up to them.

 

The sound of that pain filled voice had loosened the hand around his heart, easing the pain of having lost him to the pain of almost losing him.  All of the Avengers had found themselves relieved about the fact that the man was alive and on the slow path to recovery. They still weren’t happy with Fury, all things considered, but understood why he had done what he had done.

 

“Barton,” Coulson called over their private com line, pulling a smile from the archer.

 

“Coulson, am I needed now?” Barton asked, getting a chuckle from his still healing handler.

 

“Just to toss around a few new recruits. I’m still wheelchair bound at best,” Coulson said, amusement lacing his voice, pulling a soft smile from Barton.

 

“Coming in,” Barton said in return, chuckling lightly and shaking his head. Leaving his broken perch, he walked over to his mini carrier and climbed in before heading for the Heli-carrier with a content smile on his lips.

 


	14. Fix Him 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 14  
> Characters: Avengers  
> Word count: 1,474  
> AN: Another chapter down. Still several more to go.
> 
> *~*~*~*

“I turned Stark Tower One into Avengers Tower One.”

 

That very interesting bit of news came from one Tony Stark who had a very amused Pepper Potts standing next to him during the very first meeting of the Avengers after their so called vacation. They had sat down in their chairs, given over their reports on what they had done during their vacation time, Tony going last of course, and dropping that bomb on them.

 

Coulson had sat and chuckled at the surprised or blank looks on his fellow Avenger’s faces before explain just how the Tower had been broken down.

 

The first floor was the mail rooms, secretaries offices and the main lobby where people checked in before being lead to the offices of those they were meeting. The second and third floors were conference rooms for the rest of the building, along with larger storage rooms. From there, there were laboratories and researcher offices, including full floor ones for Bruce Banner and Tony himself to work in when at the tower. There were also training rooms, ranges and gyms covering a few of the floors on their own. The ranges had Natasha and Clint damn near climaxing at the very sight of them.

 

The living quarters covered three floors with one apartment as the Avengers gathering place. Thor, Natasha, Bruce and Steve all had their own one bedroom apartments while Coulson and Barton shared a larger, four bedroom, two bathroom apartment on the same floor as the gathering area. Tony and Pepper had the pent house at the very top for when they weren’t at his Miami home.

 

They had been told that the only reason why Barton and Coulson were sharing an apartment was because Coulson still needed someone to watch over him and make sure that he didn’t end up pushing himself right back into the medical unit. So far, the living arrangements worked pretty damn well for everyone there.

 

Thor was in and out of his apartment, often playing guinea pig for Tony and Bruce to learn all they could about Gods and their limits. He also acted as the go between for Asgard and SHIELD, creating a solid alliance between them. His apartment had taken on an elegance that you would not have expected from the boisterous God of Thunder. The furniture had all been brought down from Asgard, all of it made from a dark, solid wood with thick, comfortable cushions that one could since into. The walls were a rich green with the same wood as the furniture acting as the floor, just stained lighter then said furniture. The kitchen and bathroom were both a light, airy blue, the kitchen rarely used.

 

Everything about the apartment was elegant decadence, through and through.

 

Bruce’s apartment on the other hand was simplistic while still providing enough comfort for him. A large couch and matching large bookcases made up his living room furniture along with a TV in the corner. It was only really used to keep tabs on news programs that he liked and not much else unless they all gathered in his apartment. His bedroom had a bed, side tables and a dresser, keeping to the simplistic design. Carpet covered the floors except in the front hall way, which was done in what looked to be marble but wasn’t, and the bathroom, done in brown tiles on the floor and tan paint on the walls. But it was his kitchen that was the only part of the apartment that was currently a demolished mess, Bruce recreating it when he had some time to do so or wasn’t allowed near the lab by his friends.

 

It was looking to be a gorgeous kitchen, everyone agreeing to that.

 

Steve’s apartment was a timeless classic design, as Natasha had called it once. Large, comfortable chairs surrounded a large gas fireplace that looked like a normal log fireplace with a three person couch directly in front of it. Side tables sat with matching lamps in between the couch and the armchairs. A simple wood table with a glass top sat in front of the couch, covered in books mostly. Floor lamps threw the perfect amount of light to read at night while the large windows provided it during the day.

 

The walls had been repainted a nice dark sandy color from the original off white color and the original plain brown carpet had been replaced by redwood floors in most of the rooms outside of the kitchen and bathroom. Those rooms had nice, simple gray slate tiles. His bedroom was decadent with a large bed, a matching dresser and side tables with simple little lamps.

 

It felt like Steve, right down to the bed sheets in dark blues, reds and soft whites.

 

Natasha was an oasis though, one that very few could ever get to see. It had enough security features to make even Jarvis feel a bit of jealousy, all the while keeping her privacy. She didn’t have any furniture per say, at least not any that could be considered normal. Instead she had large bean bags like chairs that were scattered around the living room on the shag carpet which was a nice dark red color. Her bed was a rather nice platform bed and was the only piece of furniture in her bedroom, being made out of a light wood that she liked so much.

 

To none of their surprises, she had hidden something like two dozen weapons around the apartment in various compartments.

 

Phil’s and Clint’s apartment was a comfortable neutral that mixed their particular styles. Bamboo wood ran from the entry way down into the living room and down the hallway as the floor. The bathrooms and kitchen had warm, large, stone looking tiles instead of the original small white tiles. The tiles were the color of pines, a softer shade of the floor tiles made up the black splash as the cabinets were a light wood. The paint through most of the house were shades of very light greens.

 

In the kitchen, the appliances were a sleek black and the best that they could get for a good price. Two ovens, a six burner stove and a matching microwave were all new, put in on Tony’s order when he found that Coulson was looking at replacing the ones that were there. The refrigerator had stayed, the two agreeing that it was a nice one. In the bathrooms, which were shared between two of the four bedrooms, the green was offset by the softly covered wood and the off white tub and glass contained shower. Dual sinks were in both bathrooms and rather large, having quite a bit of cabinet space under them.

 

All of the apartments were pretty much laid out the same with the entry way just inside of the door, leading to the living room. On one side of the room was the kitchen and dining space, which wasn’t really used, and on the other was the hallway to the bedrooms and bathrooms.

 

Barton’s and Coulson’s bedrooms and bathrooms were set up a bit differently though. One side of the hallway had two rooms and a bathroom while the other side had the other two rooms and a bathroom. The entire floor plan took up more room, leaving the other apartment on the same floor slightly smaller but still a good place for everyone to get together.

 

Barton’s bedroom on the left side of the hallway was as expected. There were many places where he could perch, the ceilings were vaulted and taking over a bit of Tony’s and Pepper’s penthouse. His bed was much like a bunk bed but made of a good solid wood, and without the second bed on the bottom. Instead there was a desk under the main bed, a dresser taking one wall of the room up while a tall bookcase took over the another wall. The colors of the walls and carpet were rather interesting shades of gray that was a rather nice color with the way it was set up.

 

While Barton’s room was cool, Coulson’s room was warm in rich jewel tones of blues and purples. The carpet was a purple, almost as dark as black, while the walls were painted a rich indigo blue. His bed was an older solid wood bed with matching side tables and a dresser, all of it elegantly carved with ivy and done in a red wood. Pictures of the various people in his life were scattered about the room.

 

The two men used the other two rooms as offices but also as guest rooms if they needed to. Coulson’s office just as used as often as his office that he had four floors down, while Barton was found perched somewhere near him.

 

Or in the vents again.


	15. Fix Him 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 15  
> Characters: Phil  
> Word Count: 1,108  
> AN: One last chapter to go.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Phil closed his office door behind him as he left and groaned lowly as he locked it up with the keypad next to it, Jarvis flashing his confirmation for him. Once that was done, he plodded down the hallway, unsurprised by the fact that there was at least two people in the other offices doing their own paperwork. Shaking his head, he came to stand before the elevator and pushed the button to go up to his shared apartment. Swiping his card once inside of said elevator, he slumped against the wall and rubbed at his neck with a low moan.

 

Once at his floor, the doors opened out into a greeting area with two doors and swipe pads to get into the apartments. Using his card and pressing his thumb to the offered print reader, Phil stepped inside of the apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. Placing his briefcase onto the entry way table, he lent down and pulled his shoes off, placing them onto the shoe rack that was just on the inside of the hall closet. Grabbing his briefcase once more, he headed for the bedrooms, feet sinking into the lush carpet.

  
Dropping the case off in his office, Phil walked through the bathroom into his bedroom. A quick shower and a change into a night shirt and pants later, he was making a simple sandwich. Sitting down in a chair, he started to eat his food, not expecting Clint to walk out of his own room in nothing more than a pair of low hanging sleeping pants.

  
And really, he should have expected it to happen. Clint had made it a tortuously pleasurable habit of parading around the apartment in his sleep pants whenever they were done for the day. To be able to watch the very toned body move around in nothing more then sleep pants like sin made Phil curse and praise God that he had such a wonderful sight to enjoy. To see all those shifting muscles that had been shaped by years of a hard life, training and using those bows of his was a blessing and a curse.

 

Phil glanced up from the newspaper that he had spread out before him on the coffee table as Clint walked around the table to sprawl out on the other end of the couch. A soda can dangled from his fingers as he reminded his handler of a lounging panther.

 

“How’s the paperwork coming?” Clint asked as Phil flipped the page of his newspaper, continuing to read the article that he had started.

  
Looking up from the paper, he smiled and shrugged, feeling freshly healed skin and scars pull. “It goes. I’m almost done with getting caught up and should be able to fully catch up with it all tomorrow,” he replied, lips twitching. Since he and Barton had moved in together, they had gotten comfortable enough with each other. “What about you? Still testing out the various bow designs?” he asked.

  
Clint smirked and nodded his head. “Yeah. Stark is bound and determined to outshine the ones that I’ve been using,” he chuckled.

  
“Sounds about right with Stark,” Coulson snorted, shaking his head with a smile as he looked down at his newspaper once more. As he flipped the page, he mused, “I don’t think he’s one to let something to go un-tinkered with,” even as he tried hard not to stare at the other man’s chest.

  
Clint chuckled, a low rich sound that trickled down Coulson’s back, raising goosebumps up and down his arms. “True, true. It’s rather an interesting sight to see him mutter about materials and the such while trying to combine strong carbon fiber composites and woods. The last one though was pretty good if not for the fact that the aim was slightly off.”

 

“Something that you could compensate for but which takes time to do so, which is something we just don’t have for it on missions,” Coulson replied, eyes catching the nod from the other. “Is he going to try to fix it?” he asked.

  
“Yeah, no worries on that aspect really. When he does, he’ll move onto the matching arrows,” Clint said, draining his soda can and tossing it into the hidden trash can.

  
“Good,” Coulson said, smiling and nodding his head. “So you might end up with a new bow for one of the next missions.”

 

“Yep. I’m going to kill this newest handler though,” Clint warned, watching as the older agent sat back with a wince. He had to admire the smooth way Coulson moved, even still in pain and healing.

  
“I’ll talk with him tomorrow,” Coulson promised, Barton nodding as he stood up from the couch. Exchanging good nights, the archer headed to his bed. Coulson soon was soon following Barton, knowing that he would wake up from one nightmare or another eventually. He went to bed at nine and woke up at four am, seven hours later, considering it a victory.

  
Sighing, Coulson got up and walked out to the living room, flopping down onto the couch and picking up a remote control to catch up on the newest news casts. Settling back, he crossed his legs and waited for the casts to load, finding a notepad and pencil to take down notes on things he would need to follow up on later.

  
He had filled a page about two different casts about an hour later when Barton came out of his own bedroom. The imprint the blankets had left were on his left side and made Coulson smile lightly as the other man climbed up into one of his nests. Shaking his head with a chuckle, he went back to watching the newscasts, writing down his notes.

  
When Jarvis chimed in that his alarm had been going off for the last ten minutes, Coulson woke up with a jerk, listening to Barton bitch in his cubby hole, more likely having hit his head on something in his nest.

 

“Thanks, Jarvis. Can you kill my alarm please? And tell my secretary that I might be late into the office today,” he requested.

  
“Of course, Agent Coulson,” Jarvis replied as the two men went to their rooms to get ready for their day. As Coulson shook off the thoughts about just how comfortable he had been with Barton in the same room and able to sleep so easily with him so close by, he dressed in a new suit. Once dressed, he left the apartment, exchanging a ‘goodbye’ and a ‘see ya later’ with the archer, deciding to think about his thoughts later that night.

 


	16. Fix Him 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Chapter: 16  
> Fandoms: Avengers  
> Characters: Fury, Barton, Coulson  
> Word count: 582  
> An: Last one for today. 
> 
> *~*~*~*

The paperwork was spawning, he just knew it. It seemed as if it just grew more and more every day that went past. Of course, most of them were turning out to be brand new rants about Barton, but Coulson was well beyond used to them by then.

 

He was just glad that they had gotten smart about it and put a cover on the front that stated clearly “Rant” on it so he could go over them after the important paperwork had been done.

 

Finally deciding that he should go through his paperwork and separate things into proper piles, including a pile for the rants, he did so and was just finishing with that when Hill stormed in with Sitwell following closely behind her, both of them looking pissed and holding what looked to be thick rants. He idly wondered just what had pissed the two agents off enough to come to the Avengers Tower to rant at him in person.

 

He paused and changed that thought to what Barton had done to piss them off enough to come to the Avengers Tower to rant at him.

 

Sitting back in his chair, he took the well written rants and went over the two of them as Hill and Sitwell took turns ranting about what his field agent had done this time. By the time his fellow agents had finished their rants and left, leaving him with a slight headache throbbing behind his eyes, Coulson was pulling out a bottle of aspirin and thinking about getting up to buy a bottle of juice from the vending machine just down the hall.

 

He was unsurprised when Barton dropped from the vent and put a pink one down before him. “Are they gone for good?” he asked as he took the bottle and shook it hard before opening it.

 

“Yep, they left,” Barton chuckled, watching as his handler downed two aspirin with a swig of the pink drink.

 

“Did you have to annoy them? Didn’t you just get on Hill’s good side?” Coulson finally asked, leaning back as Barton dropped down onto the couch with a grunt.

 

“As I’m sure that you know, me and my team ditched the new handler that was trying to get us to do shit that I had no interest in doing,” Barton hummed, smirking slightly.

 

“The whole gang situation that he seems intent on saying is going on, correct?” Coulson asked, Barton nodding his head.

 

He snorted after a moment. “Those so called gang bangers are just a bunch of black kids who are a part of the The Youth Alliance as big brothers and sisters.”

 

“Isn’t that the group that helps low income kids get off the streets and to help them keep up their grades?” Coulson asked, reaching out to one of his desk drawers and riffling through the papers.

 

“Yep. Runs on donations, fund raisers and volunteers. I offer time once a year, presents during Christmas and donate,” Barton replied.

 

“So, beyond ditching him,” Coulson started, finding what he wanted and handing it to Barton, “what else did you do?”

 

“Bitched about him but Hill and Sitwell both like him since he’s such a suck up his nose is forever brown. They don’t like me bitching about him,” Barton said, taking the pen.

 

“Fill it out. I’ll get it to Fury myself,” Coulson promised, getting a real smile from the agent he still considered his own.

 

 


	17. Fix Him 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Chapter: 17  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Characters: Phil   
> Word count:   
> AN: Yes, I'm back to posting these. Almost all the way caught up on things.
> 
> *~*~*~*

He hated his life sometimes and wanted to do nothing more than forget what had been going on for most of the day. He had just gotten off of the phone with a representative of the president, smoothing ruffled feathers down from the comment that one Tony Stark had made about him. Saying that said president was an idiot who needed to learn how things were really run in American had not been the smartest move he had ever done really.

 

It had taken a lot of skill, a couple shots of good bourbon and a whole lot of time to smooth things down, including having to remind them that not only was Stark a world citizen, like the rest of the Avengers were, but he was also one of the richest men in America at that time. He didn’t have to share his inventions with them, after all. He could just let them bid at auctions for them like the rest of the world.

 

That had shut them up quickly enough.

 

Groaning as he remembered that he would have to do several packets of new paperwork for this stunt, Coulson gazed at the paperwork he was still working on. Pulling open a drawer, he found the custom stamps with the names of the Avengers and his date stamp. He had given in and gotten them created when the paperwork had gotten to ridiculous proportions. Finding the ink pad that went with them, he started on the pile, stamping and writing as he went.

 

He filled out the paperwork for Natasha’s slight snafu where she had cussed out the ambassador from Russia after he had called her a weak link. They had fixed that line of thinking by letting the ambassador watch her spar with some of the more seasoned agents in SHIELD. But the incident still left him with quite a bit of paperwork to do.

 

Once those packets were done, he moved on to the ones about the incident that including the Hulk, a butterfly and several buildings. Somehow, during a fight against a rather new enemy, a butterfly had fluttered right past the Hulks snarling face, effectively distracting the large green giant into going after it and destroying six buildings in some way. The only good thing that had come from it was the fact that the buildings were going to be brought down anyways so no one was to pissed.

 

Rubbing at his head, Coulson stood up and moved over to his coffee station, discovering that a new single serve coffee maker sat next to his old coffee maker. There was also a tree with the single serve coffee cups next to that, all of them from brands that he enjoyed. There was also a few hot chocolate ones: dark, milk and flavored, and some iced tea ones.

 

Selecting one of the iced teas, he leant down and opened his small fridge, unsurprising at finding a keep cold cup. “When Tony sucks up to a person, he sucks up big time,” he snorted, pulling out the cup and ice tray, cracking out a couple of cubes. Setting the machine to make the tea, tray put away, he found his favored substitute sweetner in a little basket and shook a packet.

 

With fresh made flavored tea in hand, Coulson sat down and tasted the tea, making a sound of pleasure at the taste before he went back to his reports. He finished the packets about the Hulk and the butterfly incident relatively quickly and took a quick bathroom break only to come back to a box of his favorite honey buns. He took one package out of the box before stashing it away, knowing that Pepper had put it there, having seen her in the hallway.

 

He indulged in eating the honey bun for a few moments before once more going back to the ever growing pile of paperwork and getting through it with a smirk on his lips. He got through several piles of the paperwork, including several of the rants before he was disturbed by one of the many secretaries with several faxes in her hand. Taking them, he ignored the way she was heavily blushing as she left, tossing the phone number into a shredder.

 

He liked the secretaries who worked in Avengers Tower, even thought that a few were very pretty looking, but he was just not attracted to any of them. One top of that, he stayed away from any inner-work relationships and his libido was sitting up and _begging_ for Barton at the moment. So they would continue to be disappointed in not getting a call from him.

 

Shaking his head, he worked through the faxes, setting aside three of them to deal with immediately and the rest to deal with the next day. Picking up his phone, he started to make calls and notes, dealing with the faxes and questions. Once done with the three faxes, Coulson looked up and found that Barton was standing in the doorway with a couple of bags filled with what smelled like some hot dinner.

 

“Food?” he asked, Barton stepping fully inside of the office with a smirk, closing and locking the door behind him in the process.

 

“Yep. I needed to use a few things so I made a bunch of stuff and decided that you should eat to,” Barton said.

 

Coulson smirked. “The only food that you ever allow me to make is stuff that doesn’t require any major cooking or dessert,” he teased, shaking his head.

 

“After you somehow burned ramen? And how you did that I don’t know, but are you very surprised?” Barton asked as he moved to sit down at the coffee table, placing the bags on the table.

 

Unloading the bags, Barton exposed the food dish by dish with a flourish. Thick sliced roast beef sandwiches, small but still warm, pizza that was still bubbling hot, Alfredo pasta that had thinly sliced chicken in it, biscuits that were still nice and warm, salads with small apple bits and left over tarts and cakes were spread out before them on the coffee table.

 

Even as he took his half of the well made food, Coulson eyed the archer that sat across from him. Sitting back in his chair with his plates of food, he bit into the roast beef sandwich, discovering pepper jack cheese on it, before he narrowed his eyes and wondered just what the man was after. He cooked and made a lot of food when there were food makings that needed to be used, but the only time he actually brought food to his office was to either suck up or try to get him to spill about something.

 

With the way things were going, Coulson was happy to enjoy the meal that was spread out before him, and wait for the other man to finally break the silence that had fallen between them. As he bit into the pizza next, he watched as the other man dug into his own food, smirking every so often.

 

“Want some tea?” the handler finally asked as he finished his pizza in a few bites.

 

“Sure, why not?” Barton hummed, shrugging one shoulder.

 

“Iced or hot?” Coulson asked as he moved to make a cup of iced tea for himself.

 

“Iced please,” was the reply as Coulson watched him closely with a smirk playing on his lips.


	18. Fix Him 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 18  
> Characters: Phil, Clint  
> Word count: 1,374  
> AN: Another chapter down.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Making the tea with easy movements and trying to ignore the staring that was aimed at his back, Coulson turned around and handed one cup to the other man before sitting back down in his own spot. “You want to ask me something, I just know it, Barton,” he finally said, tasting his own tea and stirring it with the straw.

 

“You always try to ruin my fun, Coulson,” Barton huffed, getting a low chuckle from the man that sat across from him.

 

“I do try so hard to,” Coulson drawled as he put his drink to the side and picked up his food, finishing off the Alfredo with a bite and a smile on his lips.

 

Barton grunted and rubbed at his face, feet stretching out before him with a low hum. “Yeah, you do succeed,” he pouted before shaking his head. “Yeah, I wanted to know what has made you literally hide away in your office, and have Pepper actually go out and buy you a box of honey buns.”

 

Coulson snorted and pulled his desserts towards him, sinking the fork into a cake he knew to be rich. “Oh, my days have been nothing but one problem after another,” he grunted, eating the bite of sweetness with a sound of delight.

 

“Oh?” Barton asked, his eyes bright at the thought of hearing what the rest of the Avengers had gotten up to in the last week or so.

 

“Don’t even think about it, Barton. You aren’t learning shit unless you tell me about this new handler that has been assigned to your team.” Coulson cocked an eyebrow at the pout that was quick to form on Barton’s lips as the man shoved the last of his pizza into his mouth.

 

It took them sitting there for a good two minutes, staring each other down over the coffee table before Barton finally broke. “Fine,” he grunted, his original handler smiling at him, pleased with himself.

 

“So, tell me about your new handler. How is she treating you and your team?” Coulson asked. He already had a good idea, the rant from her having come to his computer just before Barton had arrived with his bribe in the form of food. He had been able to read some of the information but had read enough to know that she had tried to put a support into the field and she had been refused in the long run.

 

“She tried to use one of my hackers to sex bait just because he’s cute and, according to her, obviously a twink,” Barton said, finishing off his food and tea, moving onto the desserts. Coulson frowned heavily.

 

“Who? Carris?” he asked, remembering the pretty little male who had worked in the back room of the apartment of their first mission. He rarely saw him after that, always working in another apartment or in the van but he had seemed cute, in an androgynous kind of way. But he was far from looking like a twink, to muscled and taller than what a stereotypical twink was. “You’re joking me right? She actually thinks he…? Fuck,” Coulson moaned, shaking his head with a huff of displeasure, eyes closing as he rested his head against the back of the couch.

 

“Yeah, she actually thinks that he’s a twink and is trained to play bait to boot,” Barton chuckled, shaking his head with a sigh as he relaxed into the couch with a huff. Picking up a brownie, he bit into it with a moan of pleasure, always loving the taste of anything chocolate that Coulson made when he was able to.

 

Coulson grunted and rubbed at his face with groan, finishing off his cake and standing up to move to his desk. Plucking a pencil from his cup holder, he wrote out a note to talk with Fury about getting his people mentally checked out again and to be a bit more thorough about it. This would be the fourth handler since he had been injured to lose their mind once they took over Barton and his team. “Why is it you keep finding the ones with problems that our people miss?”

 

“You guys don’t miss them. They just seem to go nuts when they take over handling me and my team,” Barton drawled, shrugging one shoulder with a smirk. “It’s starting to get really annoying since we keep losing handlers. I think the only handler that could deal with us was you. Why can’t you do it again?” he asked, pouting once more.

 

Coulson snickered and came to sit down again. “Because I have things to do and that includes keeping the Avengers off of the hit list of the media because they do stupid things,” he continued, pointing a finger at the other man with a smirk.

 

“Us? Do stupid things? Never,” Barton denied, trying to look innocent and getting a dry look from his original handler and now roommate. He fell into thoughtfulness, moving to sit on the back of the couch and perching there. He couldn’t help but think that it seemed as if his SHIELD team was cursed when it came to handlers, having gone through something like 15 of them before they had gotten Coulson. Then they only had gotten to keep him for nearly a year before the whole Loki thing had happened.

 

“Don’t bullshit me,” Coulson huffed as he stood to make a fresh cup of something or another. He shifted through the options and found a flavored iced tea that he knew he liked and popped it into the machine. Barton smirked softly at himself and rolled his shoulders, unhappy that he had been unable to convince Fury so far to make the man their handler once more, the black male telling them that Coulson did better as the handler and care taker of the Avengers.

 

He and his group still pouted at that decision.

 

“So, what has been keeping you so busy with doing so much paperwork and all those calls of yours eh?” Barton asked, smirking at his friend as Coulson groaned and shook his head.

 

“So many things, so very many things,” Coulson groaned, rubbing at his face with a grunt, falling back into his seat with his drink in hand. “First there’s the whole thing with the Hulk chasing after a butterfly, which was just wrong on so many levels. He destroyed so many buildings and we’re just very lucky that the buildings were scheduled for demolition anyways.” He took a long drink from his cup before rubbing at his face once more. “And let’s not get on what Natasha did with the ambassador. That took him watching her kick several highly trained agents around so he could watch her do so.”

 

Barton chuckled and nodded his head. “Is that one agent back out finally?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as Coulson nodded his head.

 

“Yeah, but he’s riding a desk until his ankle is fully healed and then he is to do physical therapy for the next several weeks to get the muscles back into shape,” he said, crossing his legs.

 

“Of course there was the whole Tony Stark insulting the president thing going on,” Coulson grunted, scowling heavily.

 

Barton smirked. “Get that fixed?” he asked, making Coulson narrow his eyes at him, feeling as if the man knew something he didn’t know.

 

“What is it?” he growled, eyes narrowed as he shifted on his seat, Barton’s smirk heavy as his eyes sparkled.

 

“Well, before I came down with the food, I just happened to be watching the news where Stark was holding a press conference and happened to say he would make a wonderful handler for the Avengers, along with being a better council then the one over us,” he said, playing with his glass, looking almost bored.

 

Coulson moaned, almost as if he was in pain and wondered if he could get away with draining his whole bottle of bourbon. He just had a feeling he was going to have to deal with the shit that was bound to hit the fan after that little stunt.

 


	19. Fix Him 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Part: 19  
> Characters: Coulson, Barton  
> Word count: 845  
> AN: One more after this one. Then we'll wait for Tuesday for more.
> 
> *~*~*~*

He had just settled back into his bed, wearing nothing more than a pair of sleep pants, having forgone shirt and boxers for the night since he planned on indulging a little bit. He was horny, he needed some release and he couldn’t exactly go out and find someone to get laid since after all, he had to deal with the Avengers and random evil villians who just ran around, waiting to fuck up his day.

 

It was driving him crazy and he needed to just relax, unwind from everything that has been going on around him.

 

So with that in mind, he had pulled out his unopened bottle of lube, some wet wipes and a small file of pictures that he had gathered over the last year and few months of Barton. He was not ever going to admit to having the pictures from various missions, much less finding screen shots of him when he got those reports to go over. Never would he admit to it. Not once.

 

Especially not when Barton was bound to be nearby, more than likely stalking after him for whatever reason he stalked after him.

 

Sighing as he tucked the bottle and wipes under a pillow with his chosen pictures for the night, Coulson slid under his blankets and settled back against his pillow, crossing his legs with a hum. He reached out and grabbed his remote, flipping on his personal TV and started to flip through the channels, wondering what he was going to watch to start him off for the night. Licking his lips, he slid down a bit more and hummed to himself, eyes half lidded as he found a good channel to start off his night.

 

Rarely did he watch TV so late at night, except the reruns of certain shows had guys that were hot enough to start him off for a nice long session between him and his hand. Finding a good show with plenty of men that got him hot and ready for a night, he settled in and hummed as he felt his blood start to heat and spread through his body, making his prick twitch in interest.

 

He was half hard when the grate of his vent shake and fall open, making Coulson blink as well known legs drop out of it followed behind the rest of Barton. He groaned and shifted to hide his half hard length from the archer as the man looked around for anyone that would be in his room.

 

“Who the fuck did you piss of this time?” he asked, sounding quite used to it, eyes closing as he rubbed at them with a grunt.

 

“No one,” Barton was quick to respond. A bit too quick for Coulson as his eyes narrowed at the other man and growled.

 

“Don’t fuck with me, Barton,” he growled, feeling much too tired to deal with the bull shit. “Because, seriously, I am tired today and very grumpy,” he complained, jabbing a finger at the other man, not moving from the bed, still mostly hard and not wanting to give the other man an eyeful. That would be rather awkward trying to explain just why he was hard while watching some show with a bunch of hot guys. One of who looked a bit like the archer himself.

 

“Alright, I might have pissed off one of the night security guards by sneaking around. He wasn’t warned about me using the vents most nights so, I accidentally on purpose kind of dropped in on him suddenly and made him spill hot coffee on his lap,” Barton said, clearing his throat and rubbing at the back of his head with a sheepish look.

 

“Only you, Barton, only you,” Coulson sighed before pointing to his door. “I’ll talk to the guy later. But for now, can you get lost so I can go back to relaxing and watching my show?” he asked. The archer snorted and slinked out, knowing when it was best to hide away and when it was best to annoy his ex-handler. Right now was not a good time to annoy the man, the brown eyes that were usually so warm was annoyed and tired, telling him to hide away.

 

Once his door was closed, Coulson let his head drop back against the headboard and let out a puff of air, eyes closed as he melted into the bed, grumpy and tired. Looking down at his crotch, he grunted and glared at his now fully hard crotch with a sneer. “Oh yeah, now you’re all happy and perky, and of course he has to be back from whatever he was doing early,” he growled, narrowing his eyes down at it. “Damn thing.”

 

Huffing and biting his bottom lip to muffle the sounds, he was able to get himself off with a minimal of fuss, cleaned up and everything tucked away. His pictures were hidden away and he sighed once more, shaking his head. He had been really looking forward to his night to… 


	20. Fix Him 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Pairing: Coulson/Barton  
> For: Cutsycat  
> Part: 20  
> Word count: 814  
> AN: Last one for the night you guys. Tomorrow I shall post the last of the chapters and then you shall have to wait for Sing Me a Lullabye to be finished posting, including the oneshots that come with it.
> 
> *~*~*~*

He was going to kill someone, he just knew it. It had been nearly a month since he had last had some alone time with just him, his hand, a bottle of lube and several pictures that he loved having around and usually used for his alone nights. Ever since the night that he had realized that Barton could slink through the vents into his bedroom, he hadn’t had a proper amount of time doing what he wanted.

 

Coulson sighed and rubbed at his face, glaring at the camera that sat in the corners of his office, cursing the fact that they had to have such strong security measures when it came to most of the Avengers Tower. He wanted some form of privacy that didn’t include Jarvis watching his every move much less having Barton drop in on him suddenly right in the middle of his happy time.

 

It was getting harder to find a little time to himself also because Barton seemed to drop in on him whenever the mood struck him to do so. It was getting to a point where Coulson was wondering if the archer had a sixth sense of when he wanted to just jerk off and scratch his itch as much as he possibly could. It was starting to get downright annoying.

 

“Agent Coulson, your vitals are showing me that you are agitated. Are you alright?” Jarvis suddenly asked, drawing a groan from the agent.

 

“Fuck off, Jarvis,” Coulson sighed, rubbing at his face, sounding tired and put out, not at all happy with how things were going at the moment.

 

“I assure you, Agent Coulson, that I cannot ‘fuck off’ as you put it so delicately,” Jarvis stated, Coulson swearing there was amusement in the AI’s voice. “Do you need me to ask Ms. Potts to send you some twinkies?” he asked, making the other raise an eyebrow.

 

“If you could, that would be nice, Jarvis. And I am sorry that I was so rude to you. I did not mean to do that,” Coulson said, smiling up at one of the cameras before signing off on a piece of paper and tucking it to the side with a sigh. “And tell her that I do have money to pay her back for the box of twinkies to, please?”

 

“Of course, Agent Coulson,” Jarvis replied, getting a smile from the agent. Shaking his head, amazed at just how intuitive the computer was, continuing to flip through the files on his papers, forgetting for a small moment that he was so sexually frustrated that he was about to kill someone if he didn’t get some alone time with his hand.

 

When Pepper arrived with the promised twinkies, along with several other snacks and drinks that she told him he didn’t have to worry about paying back any time soon, he had to smile at her. Taking the treats with a smile, he settled back into work, filing the papers, scanning them in and sending them off as needed. But all too soon, Coulson’s mind was back to thinking on ways as to how he could get some privacy so he could just jack off in peace.

 

So far he was at the point of sending Barton off onto a very long mission that required him to be far, far away for a few days. Coulson had no doubt that he would end up going through several bottles of lube in a very short amount of time but it would be very worth it in the long run.

 

Sitting back, he viciously bit into a twinkie and glared at his paperwork, toes curling and growling unhappily at the fact that he was still without any way of just relaxing and getting off for once. Shaking his head, Coulson sighed and looked up at the cameras before saying, “Jarvis, is my apartment empty?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis replied promptly, making Coulson smirk brightly at that. “And Agent Barton is not in the Avengers Tower. He has gone up to the helicarrier to hand in his latest mission report and shall be back in four point seven hours. I believe that he may come back later in the day though. He did warn me that he and Agent Romonaff may be going to dinner together or to catch a new movie,” he answered, drawing a happy sigh from Coulson.

 

“Thank you, Jarvis. Can you log me out for the day and direct all calls to someone else? I will be busy for the rest of the afternoon,” Coulson said, standing up after he gathered his papers.

 

“I can do that, sir,” Jarvis said as Coulson left his office and headed for his shared apartment to finally relax and get off properly. He would have the privacy to do so finally. He couldn’t wait. 


	21. Fix Him 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Characters: Fury, Clint  
> Chapter: 21  
> Word Count: 1,553  
> AN: I'm finishing these off until after I finish posting Sing Me a Lullabye. :D Enjoy.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Barton stared at the file that had been placed before him by Fury, who was smirking at him, eyes narrowed at it. “What exactly am I doing now?” he asked slowly, tapping his fingers on the chair arm, rather put off with the whole thing.  
  
“We need you to go to a club and hunt for someone who has been hunting in our territory. I’m sure you’ve seen the reports about the males that have gone missing, only to turn up after they were tortured and dead on the news,” Fury stated, Barton nodding his head.  
  
“Yeah. Coulson has been looking for more articles and news information about it. I think he’s also been tapping into the police computers to gather any information that wasn’t put out by the officers working the cases,” Barton replied, flipping open the file and finding several names that hadn’t been mentioned in the list. “What’s up with the other names? I don’t remember them.”  
  
“We had our profiles create one for our target and Coulson found several cases that lead up to the newest cases, a sort of lead up for the torture and murders. Several of the males on the list are out of the comas and catatonic states that they had landed in but they don’t remember anything from what happened,” Fury stated, frowning heavily, his eye dark with anger. “It seems that the task force looking for this man has decided to keep their names out of the media to protect them but has interviewed them and documented their cases.”  
  
“I see,” Barton said absently, eyebrows furrowed as he read over the information in the file, taking in the rather graphic pictures that had been added in. The males were on the pretty side, for the most part, lean and fit, no taller than six feet, and all of them were known to hit various clubs that catered to whoever needed a place to escape to. It had seem though that their escape had turned into a horror show. “What makes them the target for this guy though? That’s my question.”  
  
Fury hummed and said, “Page five. They’re all cross dressers, either full time in their life or only when they go out to the clubs and the such.” Barton’s eyebrows rose at that piece of information about the victims. They had all different coloring for their eyes, hair and skin but he hadn’t expected that all of them were cross dressing males. It was rather interesting to learn that fact.  
  
“So what am I supposed to do?” he asked, looking up from the case file with narrowed eyes, not trusting the smirk on Fury’s lips.  
  
“You, Hawkeye, are to go to the provided hotel room with the provided clothes and take out this man, either killing him or capturing him so we can talk to him. We think he might have taken out a couple of our agents who do this for stress relief, but we’re not too sure since no one is able to find out anything at the moment,” Fury stated, getting a nod from Barton as he stood.  
  
“Very well, I’ll go and get ready for this,” the archer replied, nodding his head once more before leaving the office, heading for a carrier to get to the Avengers Tower. Once he was there, he took the elevator down to his shared apartment and sighed as he closed the door behind him. Making some coffee, Barton was quick to head to his office, mind already swirling with thoughts of what he was going to have to do for the mission.  
  
Locking the door behind him, Barton settled at his desk and stared to really read over the file, including the full profile that their people had worked up. The victims had been tortured for several days before they had died by someone who was very assured in himself but more than likely couldn’t find a normal bed partner who would play his games. He took sadism to the extreme, had probably been cast out of many a club and banned from ever having a partner like that. He was more than likely to be a large male, well over six feet tall himself, healthy and probably well known to work out often if not religiously.  
  
Sighing, Barton sat back and moaned softly, rubbing at his face, already knowing just what was going to happen. He was going to be playing bait to a sociopath that had probably attacked and killed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents if what Fury had told him was true, not to mention the other victims that he had killed for his own sick and twisted pleasure. Though, who his handler and contact was for this mission, he didn’t quite know, making him frown heavily to himself.  
  
A knock to his office door made him frown as he stood and opened it, finding Coulson standing there with a package that Barton had a feeling was his outfit for the mission. “I’m going to be your contact this mission. I hope you have your information already read over and memorized. I have to head out soon to get to the club that you’re hunting in. The file also has who we think it might be so you’re gonna want to read that before you head out to,” Coulson stated, making Barton groan.  
  
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll have the information read before I catch a cab to the hotel, no worries. You know I do my job to the fullest extent,” Barton promised, taking the boxes with a nod of his head. Coulson smirked at him and nodded before heading off to the club to set up the back room that would be set up for him to watch over his agent.  
  
The owner of the club hated the fact that some sociopathic psycho, as he called their target, was hunting in his clubs and wanted him gone for good.  
  
Sighing softly, Barton packed up his bag, not even looking at the dress, the accessories and the shoes that went with the dress, and caught a cab down to the roach motel that had been chosen. Going to his room, he found a case that held the cell phone that he was to carry, his ear bud and his microphone, and a bag full of bathing supplies. Tossing the bag with his clothes on the bed, he grabbed the bathing supplies and headed into the bathroom to shower and shave all of the unneeded hair on his body, muttering about how Natasha was better suited to do bait and kill missions.  
  
Once he was clean and dried, he walked out into the main room in his towel and grabbed his bag with a scowl to a well hidden camera as the phone rang.  
  
“What?” Barton growled as he turned it onto the speaker, setting it on the counter once he walked into the bathroom once more.  
  
“No need to get snippy,” Coulson chuckled over the line, smiling in the office as he watched the door close to the bathroom on the screen before him. Barton grunted softly and unzipped the bag, finding the dress and pulling it out with wide eyes.  
  
“What the fuck?” he yelped, staring at the leather dress. He could already tell it would fit his body perfectly, hiding most of his muscles under long sleeves and rather soft leather fabric. All around, it was a type of dress that Natasha would wear to bait someone into making a stupid move.  
  
“I choose that particular dress because I knew that it would fit you properly without any need to alter it should it come down to that. I also chose it because it fits the descriptions of what the previous victims were wearing,” Coulson stated, getting a sigh from Barton.  
  
“They wore leather of some kind. Either the normal black leather you see, or softer types dyed in various shades. All in varying degrees of how much they wore,” the archer replied, quoting from what he could remember from the file.  
  
“Exactly. This dress and the accessories work for this mission. Now get dressed. Remember the layout of the club and all exits if you need to make a fast get away?” Coulson asked as Barton started to dress in the dress and the accessories, taking his time in making sure that he got everything right, including the hair piece that came with it all.  
  
“Yeah. Are the other’s set up already?” he asked, zipping the dress up and smoothing it down before moving out into the main bedroom with his shoes and phone in hand.  
  
“Yes, they are. They’re waiting for any signal from us to move in if you need us to. Remember, I’m your friendly eye in the sky,” Coulson stated, getting an affirmative sound as Barton finished getting ready to head out.  
  
Once he had finished dressing, including all of the small things that would keep track of him, Barton caught another cab to the club and paid his way in, ready to hunt down an idiot that was daring to go around and kill the innocent in such a dark way. He would have fun with this, no matter how much he still thought that the mission was something better suited to be done by Natasha. 


	22. Fix Him 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Pairing: Barton/Coulson  
> For: cutsycat  
> Chapter: 22  
> Word count: 1,238   
> AN: *cackles cutely*
> 
> *~*~*~*

He was strolling through the club, eyes watching for the suspect as he moved through the various people, shooing people away with a flirtatious smile before continuing on his way to the bar and sitting down at it. Barton crossed his legs and waved down the bartender, ordering a soda so as to keep his mental capabilities free and open. He didn’t want to deal with his brain being full of fuzz from the alcohol.

 

Coulson was sitting back in the back room, watching him as he flirted with the occasional person that walked past or paid a bit of attention, eyeing the way he wore the dress. No matter how many times the man complained about wearing the damn dress, he wore it with quite a bit of ease, which wasn’t very surprising all things considered. The man knew how to wear a dress, probably from the past missions he had done in one and could pull off cross dressing male with just as much ease as he did wearing the dress.

 

It was rather amusing all things considered and he had a feeling that he was going to be dreaming about the man in that dress for days, if not for weeks after the end of this mission. Sighing, Coulson ran a hand through his hair and started running through the various camera feeds, eyes scanning for the one that was their target. He found him heading for where Barton was sitting, drinking his soda and flirting with the bartender whenever the guy came by to refill his drink.

 

“ _Barton, your target is coming,_ ” Coulson said over the communicator, Barton looking over the rim of the cup and spotting their target. Smiling slightly, he crossed his legs, his dress hitching upwards and exposing a long leg and making the handler thank all that was holy that he was alone at the moment. The man was wearing rather nice jeans and a simple shirt, and walked like a predator.

 

“I see him,” Barton hummed back, hiding the fact that his lips were moving behind his glass as he lowered his eyelids with a small smile. Shifting as the target sat next to him, the archer tilted his head in greeting to the other man as he smirked, full lips flashing straight white teeth and making Barton’s instincts rear up at the fact that a predator was so damn close to him.

 

“Well, I’ve never seen you here before,” the target purred, eyes half lidded as he smirked and lent against the bar, resting his head on one hand. Barton crossed his legs and chuckled lowly at the other man, his own eyes half lidded as he tapped his fingers against his glass.

 

“I have never come here. I heard about it from a friend who lives here and decided to come on by on his suggestion for a good time,” Barton purred, making his eyes flare with promise. The other man smirked and tapped his finger against his bottom lip with a chuckle, the two men leaning close to each other. “So, is it really a good time here?” he asked, lips pulling into a wider smile at the smirk that came from his target.

 

“Why don’t I show you just how good it can be here?” the man asked, taking Barton’s hand and leading him out to the dance floor. Nearly half an hour later, the archer followed after the target with a smile on his lips, knowing that Coulson was watching him and tracking him. It was surprisingly easy to take the man out with a quick twist of his neck when his back was turned.

 

“That was so seriously easy,” Barton grunted as he stood over the dead body, the team already descending onto the warehouse that the target had taken him to. Stalking out, he slid into the car next to Coulson as the man cocked an eyebrow at him and drove away, knowing that the rest of the team would take care of the body.

 

“He actually got one of our people without us knowing about it. That part didn’t come out until the search team found his place and ransacked it,” Coulson stated as he started the car and headed off to the hotel room that they would use to relax for the night. “Found his state ID amongst the others and with four others that we didn’t know about,” he continued, handing over his Stark Pad to let Barton look over the new information that had been sent to him while he was following after Barton and the target. “The guy was good and changed his MO after his first four victims. Apparently, he buried them instead of just dumping them somewhere. It’s rather annoying that our information network failed on that.”

 

“I see,” Barton grunted, glad that he had snapped the guy’s neck when he had, stopping him dead in his tracks, to pardon the pun, making him shake his head. “This guy was good at hiding what he was and what he was doing while playing at being the good boy who went to church and did his job at work,” he mused, Coulson nodding his head as he stopped at a stop light.

 

“Name is Brinic Smith, age 32. Sexuality, as far as we can tell is whatever will spread their legs for him. From what the people found, he was a twig in high school, was heavily tormented by bullies and went the extreme when he shot up just before his senior year and was able to form some heavy amounts of muscle. There’s not much on his parents, but we have hints that the parents were on the high religious side of things and that formed his need to rebel in the most extreme of ways. I have a feeling that we’ll find some mental problems in his history that we’ll find when the computer geeks start digging around.”

 

“So I see,” Barton grunted, continuing through the information that was constantly being found, reading it with care. Coulson kept his eyes forward, trying hard not to stare at the long legs that the outfit showed, knowing just what would happen if he happened to look over.

 

Like hell was he going to have a boner while they were in the same car and on their way to a hotel room.

 

“I have a feeling that things will be rather interesting when it comes to this guy,” Barton finally said, shrugging with a huff and putting the Stark Pad aside, staring out the window. “Fury is going to be pissed when he finds out why that one agent dropped off the face of the Earth. You know his rule about dying without permission.”

 

“It’s not to happen if you save yourself like a good little agent,” Coulson snorted, remembering those words from Fury when he had almost died himself. Shaking his head, he pulled into the hotel and parked, the two men climbing out and heading into the room. Changing into better clothes and ordering pizza, the two men settled in for the night and worked on their reports of the night.

 

Without Barton noticing, to absorbed by the show, his report, and the pizza, Coulson watched the recording of the night, clearing up the images and making a video report to turn in. 


	23. Fix Him 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Characters: Phil  
> Chapter: 23  
> Word Count: 704  
> AN: Short, sweet and to the point.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Walking through the halls of the Helicarrier, several files under one arm and a serious face, one Phil Coulson was headed to the video room where all of the mission files and videos were found. He was after one particular mission video, not wanting anyone to see it, not even Fury all things considered.

  
He and Barton had arrived at the Helicarrier three hours ago after a long breakfast together in a simple diner that reminded him of one that he had gone to in his own home town. After they had arrived, they had done their verbal reports and dropped off the information, the video already sent in and placed on a disk. After they had been released, the two agents had gone to their respective offices and printed out their reports, filing them with an ease of practice over the years.

 

After he had finished with that and had done a few other pieces of paperwork that had been waiting for him, Coulson had packed up his office and headed for the archive room to hunt down the video. He knew that Fury had a copy but wouldn’t look at it, so he didn’t have to worry about that getting out any time soon.

  
But what he was after was the copy in the archive rooms. He wanted to get the hard copy of the video and destroy the others, as he had done with other missions where one of his people had gone in dressed in such a way as to be harassed or annoyed. But this time, it wasn’t just about keeping his agent safe, especially since Barton wasn’t even his agent any more.

 

Rolling his shoulders and passing his ID card over the scanner, he pushed the door to the archives open and stepped inside, heading for the center of the room where the main computer was. Nodding to the archivist, he held out the files and said, “Take these to the physical file archives please. I have something to do.” The archivist smirked and nodded, well used to what he did when he came to gather certain files.

 

Both the archivist and Fury knew what he was going to do, knew that the file would disappear into his personal rooms and never see the light of day unless it needed to for some odd reason. And they approved what he did since few handlers did so for their agents.

  
Waiting until the man had left, Coulson sat down at the computer, finding it logged in, and started to hunt down the copies of the file. With a few clicks of the mouse and some quickly typed commands, he had erased the video and found out where the DVD of it was kept. Wiping his search behind him and leaving the computer, he walked to the DVD’s and found the right section, snatching the case right off of the shelf. He tucked the DVD case into the inner pocket of his coat and headed out of the archive rooms as if he hadn’t just stolen yet another DVD to add to his ever growing collection.

  
What no one really knew about the agent called Phil Coulson was that he had a private collection outside of the collection of DVD’s that he had stolen to protect his people. This collection was made up entirely of videos of missions that Barton had been on, mostly of Barton in various states of undress or odd clothes, like the nights before dress. He kept those particular DVD’s well hidden or took the film and cut out any unnecessary film, creating a new DVD for himself while the one with the full mission video was put in with the rest of his collection that kept his agents safe from harassment.

 

Heading off of the Helicarrier with Barton to Stark Tower, where he knew the other man would take advantage of the pool that was in the basement of the tower along with the spa and jacuzzi, Barton smiled slightly to himself and pulled out his Stark Pad to read over past mission reports. The man always seemed to go down there after a late night mission to swim and steam, leaving him alone in the apartment and able to tuck away his new treasure until he had decided on if he wanted create a new DVD or not.

  
Once they had landed in their personal airport on top of the building, he headed to their apartment while Barton headed for the pool with a wave over his shoulder. Stepping out of the elevator and waving his pass over the reader, he stepped into the apartment and closed the door before making sure that no one had snuck into it their apartment and done something. Once that was done and confirmed, he headed for his bedroom and dropped his overnight suitcase onto the bed, moving to his study and placing his laptop case there.

 

Reaching into his inner pocket, Coulson removed the DVD case and eyed it with almost greedy eyes. Smiling to himself, glad that there wasn’t any cameras in the apartments, he moved to one wall and found one of the hidden niches that Stark had put in for each of the Avengers.

  
Coulson had several of them scattered around the apartment, Barton not having any put any place but his own room, along with the safes that were hidden in various places. The safes held the mission files, physical and digital, while the hidden niches held all of his personal DVDs of Barton. The DVD’s themselves didn’t just hold videos of missions but slideshows of still frames from some of the missions to.

  
It was his dirty little secret and one that he was willing to kill to keep a secret, even though it wasn’t unheard of for a handler to fall for their agent. But never once had a handler fallen for Barton, much less kept copies of mission files for their own personal fantasies.

 

Snorting to himself, he opened the niche and found at least four DVDs and a pile of pictures in it, making him sigh and go hunting for another one. He never kept more than four DVD’s in any one niche, which meant that he had to often take them and place a series of them onto one disc. Doing that took him time seeing as he had to set it up so that he could decide on which video to watch instead of having to fast forward them. And with his paperwork the way it was, it wasn’t often that he could get away with doing that while Barton was gone for the day.

  
Humming, Coulson found another niche that didn’t have as many and made a note to take the time to consolidate a few of his current discs onto one when he had time and Barton was gone for a day. He knew that the archer and Natasha had plans to go out on the town one day, do some heavy shopping and stock up on things, so he figured he would do it then.

 

Closing the niche, making sure it was well hidden once more, Coulson headed to his bedroom and stripped out of his clothes, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before moving to his study. Sitting at his computer, he pulled up his e-mail service and started on his private life, sending e-mails to family and friends who he cared for and kept in touch with before moving on to his work, catching up on those e-mails and requests.

 

It wasn’t long before he was lounging out in the living room, watching TV and the news, feeling tired but not wanting to go to bed so early, already knowing that it would be a long night.


	24. Fix Him 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Pairing: Phil/Clint  
> Chapter: 24  
> Word Count: 1,575  
> AN: Last one until I finish off Sing Me a Lullabye.
> 
> *~*~*~*

He didn’t know when or how it had happened, but it had.

 

It had started with each night that had been filled with nightmares that had chased sleep away from him and left him wondering what to do to fill the hours before work with. He had taken to watching TV in the living room or doing some kind of paperwork that needed to be done so he might as well take care of it.

 

But mostly he watched TV.

 

Occasionally, he read the news online, catching up to the papers that he had subscriptions to. He was almost caught up and had sent any information he deemed interesting and needed to the archivist in the helicarrier.

 

After a while though, Barton had taken to joining him in his late nights. The archer would either watch TV with him, or cook, or even read a book during their nights together. Sometimes he would hide away in the little cubby hole that had a bed in there and actually sleep.

 

They had learned early on to have another alarm out in the living room and turned on whenever they were in the living room. It worked for them, really, and they made sure that they did get plenty of sleep. It wasn’t too hard for them to fall into a pattern whenever one of them had nightmares and found their way to the living room.

 

Coulson had woken up from one such nightmare, once more dreaming about Loki and almost dying due to his attack, and wandered out into the living room with his lap top in hand. Flopping down onto the couch, he set the alarm that sat on the small side table and flipped on the small lamp next to the alarm. Shifting his legs to stretch out over the couch, he turned the TV on and opened his laptop, settling in to catch up on his newspapers.

 

He looked up when a grumpy looking Barton walked in, still wearing his mission outfit, case with bow and quiver in hand, and raised an eyebrow. “Go take a shower and change. I’ll make coffee and food for you,” Coulson said, standing up from the couch and putting his laptop aside for later. Barton sent him a thankful smile and walked back to his room, the sound of a shower starting filtering out to him just under the sound of whatever was playing on the TV.

 

Looking at the TV, he noted that it was one of the few shows about restaurants that he enjoyed. He rather enjoyed watching the man, who he knew to be a rather well known chef himself, tear into the owners and then help them rebuild their businesses.

 

Shaking his head, he pulled out some already cooked hamburger meat that he had been planning on turning into spaghetti, but would do as tacos. Tossing the meat, some water and his pre-mixed spices into a pan, he left that to heat and cook as he grabbed lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, taco shells and flour tortillas. He soon had the lettuce and tomatoes chopped, and in bowls, with the cheese shredded and the tortillas heating in the oven.

 

Barton came out, sniffing the air and taking in spicy scent of cooked meat with just the right types of spices teasing his sense of smell. “Made tacos?” he asked, taking the plate that was handed to him by his friend before Coulson bent down and pulled out the tray of tortilla’s from the oven, placing them onto a plate.

 

“Yes. I had the meat ready for spaghetti but not the sauce, so I went with tacos for now,” Coulson hummed, taking two of the hard taco shells and two of the flour tortillas for his own food, Barton taking three of each. The two men made their tacos, some salsa and sour cream being found and used along with the other toppings. Once they had their food and soda, they migrated to the couch and sat down to eat and watch the owners get ripped into for whatever they had done this time.

 

“How’s work been going?” Barton finally asked. They both knew that they didn’t need to talk but they enjoyed talking with each other on occasion. It meant that they caught up with their lives seeing as Barton was often doing his missions while Coulson was working on keeping the Avenger’s under some semblance of control.

 

“Busy. I swear that Stark creates the situations he gets in just to see me squirm and rush around to smooth feathers down so we’re not eyeballed to damn hard,” Couslon snorted as he finished off his first taco and went in for his second. “Thor of course keeps getting stalked by fangirls. They see him and suddenly it’s a mob scene, especially when he wears jeans and a t-shirt. I keep having to send someone to save him from the horror that is a squealing, horny fangirl.”

 

“The poor god of Thunder,” Coulson chuckled, shaking his head with an amused look on his face as he finished off another one of his tacos, moving onto his third. Barton eyed the other male and finished off his own third taco and quickly after that, his fourth.

 

Coulson pulled his laptop close to him, letting it sit on the couch before him as Barton took up the end of it with a book and his food. They were quite content with just sitting around, eating and talking as they were, the handler occasionally telling his friend a bit of news that he thought the other man would find interesting before continuing with his reading. Barton had soon finished off his plate of food and his soda, and dished up the last of the taco makings, handing Coulson a small soft taco before he retook his seat.

 

“Thanks,” Coulson hummed, eating the taco in a couple of bites before wiping his mouth with a tissue that he had grabbed from the box that they kept in a drawer. He had seen the bottle of lube stashed next to that under some papers but hadn’t said anything about it, knowing that the other would probably deny any knowledge of it.

 

“Not a problem,” Barton grunted before digging around for a legal pad and a pen that they kept in one of the many drawers for whenever they needed to write something and didn’t want to go to their offices. Finding it, he started to write out his newest mission report as Coulson continued to read his newspapers, finding his own notebook and making note on a few sightings of the people that they were watching.

 

He would do some searching the next day since he was to join the Helicarrier for a week long update meeting and would have complete access to the archives and computers. “I really need to get these computers set up to hook into the helicarrier’s computers,” Coulson grunted, his companion chuckling lightly at him.

 

“Indeed you do. It would make my job so much easier, especially when it came to turning in my mission reports,” Barton stated, shaking his head with an amused smile.

 

Coulson chuckled and went back to relaxing, knowing that only in a few short hours, he would be getting onto the helicarrier and joining into a meeting, but it wasn’t so bad as long as he had his friend with him, no matter how much he wanted to jump the guy’s bones.

 

They didn’t know when it became normal to just relax so late at night after their nightmares, but they found that they didn’t mind all that much. It worked well for them after all.

 


	25. Fix Him 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 25  
> Pairing: Clint, Fury  
> Word count: 1,327  
> AN: And we have the next chapter. :D Enjoy. Finally.
> 
> *~*~*~*

“We, that is, I need you to do something for me,” Fury stated. Barton just raised an eyebrow at the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

“And what is it that you need me to do?” the archer asked, crossing his legs and sitting back in his chair, still ready to get up and run for it if he needed to. He had been called to Fury’s office when he had arrived on the Helicarrier to drop off his physical report of his latest mission. The only times that he did come onto the Helicarrier was to drop off reports and to get his newest mission information it seemed.

 

He had been spending more and more time with Coulson when they were free or just relaxing during work hours since the handler had taken over a floor of the Avengers Tower for the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that were working with them. Barton found that he could withstand his handlers as long as he didn’t have much face to face contact with them at any one time. Once he had that figured out, which made him happy, he spent a lot of time with his new Avengers partners. It worked out for all and he had actually kept his latest handler without trying to drive them away.

 

And the handler himself seemed to get that it was best to just to watch over Barton and his group, assign the missions and keep track of everything without getting in the way.

 

But for the moment, he had been called to see Fury about something or another and it was making the archer curious.

 

“What exactly do you need?” Barton prompted after a few minutes of Fury tapping his fingers on a file that sat before him.

 

“The mission is called Agent Cupid,” Fury finally answered, pushing the file over and allowing Barton to pick it up and read over it with furrowed eyebrows. “We want you to seduce Agent Coulson and get him to finally relax. His last girlfriend was well before the Avengers formed and Loki was taken into custody. I’m sure you remember seeing the footage of when the group was talking about his supposed death and the cello player,” he continued, Barton nodding.

 

Barton was surprised, the words that came from Fury shocking him quite a bit. But he did not let his surprise show on his face even as he flipped the file open and stared at Coulson’s picture. “What exactly is it you want me to do? And why me?” he asked, starting to read through the complaints about the way the handler was ready to snap at anyone who wasn’t the Avengers or those who he needed to be polite to. Even then, some of them seemed like they were just complaining about how cold he could be with that glare of his.

 

“We want you to, somehow, in some way, seduce our dear little handler, one Phil Coulson. We need him to be relaxed and open. I don’t care if you two continue to fuck or have a relationship or something after wards, just as long as it doesn’t interrupt your work. And don’t think we haven’t seen just how well you two work together and look after each other,” Fury stated, pointing a finger at him. “We all can feel the sexual tension between you. It’s gotten tighter then a spring about ready to snap. So this is as much as for you as it is for him. We need the both of you on top of your game and you can’t do that with so much need between you two.”

 

Barton groaned and rubbed at his face. He knew that he and Coulson had been without a sexual partner for the better part of two years, not even finding a partner amongst those that nearly threw themselves at them. But he hadn’t known it had gotten to a point where the other man was starting to get snippy. Of course, that could also be caused by the fact that they shared close quarters and it was a bitch to find a bit of privacy to deal with that itch on their own.

 

“Alright, so you want me to sleep with him. Any other option to this?” he asked finally, Fury smirking as he sat back, legs crossing behind his desk.

 

“You can either sleep with him or somehow get him to sleep with someone. Either way, he needs to get laid and soon. We’ve done this with other agents before and you well know it,” Fury stated, talking about when S.H.I.E.L.D. had to step in when someone was getting to a point where even their therapist was telling them that they needed to find a partner of some kind. It didn’t matter to them who an agent took to bed as long as it was all consensual, the partner was over age of consent for the United States and it wasn’t illegal in some way. There were quite a few of the agents that were known to take whoever they wished to bed, as long as the person needed to scratch that itch.

 

Barton had done it a few times himself, going to one of the agents who was known as Love Agents, but hadn’t done it since he had come under Coulson’s care as his handler.

 

“So, either find us both a partner or sleep together, you don’t really care either way. You just want us to fuck and relax. The psychiatrist tell you this?” Barton asked, raising an eyebrow with some curiosity in his eyes. Fury smirked and pointed to the file, making the archer look down and read the psychiatrists report, along with his suggestions from their last mental eval. “Oh, great. I’m on a short fuse and need a long vacation some where there are a lot of pretty people that are willing to fuck. I would need a case of lube and a case of condoms, each, at least, and a semi secluded house so that I don’t bother the other people around there,” he read, snorting before laughing loudly, shaking his head in some amusement.

 

“Oh, man, that’s precious,” Fury snorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he shook his head. “So, will you be able to seduce him and keep him like I suspect you want to. I won’t need a detailed, long report on what you do but a simple report telling me that you were able to get him laid in some way would be nice. And if you two somehow stay together, a change in status so I can update your insurance accordingly.”

 

“I will be able to do that,” Barton grunted, standing up and nodding to Fury before taking his leave, file tucked under his arm. He had much to think about, including what he was going to do in the long run when it came to Coulson.

 

Fury was right, he did want to fuck the man, there was no doubt about that, but it was more than just that. He wanted to lay the other down and bring them both pleasure until they were limp and happy, laying in a bed that was dirty and wet from their sexcapades. Sighing, Barton got a ride down to the Avengers tower and headed for the apartment that he shared with his roommate.

 

Finding the apartment empty, he headed to his office and closed the door after him, sitting down at his desk. Opening the file once more, Barton read over Coulson’s psyc eval and snickered a few times at it before sitting back and plotting on how to get the other man into his bed finally, agreeing that it would be good for the both of them. That and he had been wanting his handler in his bed for a good man months anyways, so doing this would be good for both of them.

 

 


	26. Fix Him 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Part: 26  
> Pairing: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 1,522  
> AN: Okay, so a quick warning. From here on out, the posting schedule shall be: Monday's – Fix Him Chapter, Friday's – Oneshot/Mini story chapter. Why? Because this month I'm finishing off my prep work for the up coming National Novel Writing Month, and then there is NaNo in November, along with Thanksgiving. And then in December there is editing, wrapping things up, recovering from NaNo, and, of course, Christmas plotting and massive amounts of cooking. So my posting schedule is taking a bit of a hit until I finish off this story and after the new year.
> 
> Just...survive with me, okay? I'm sure you guys can. 
> 
> I'm off to write some more. 
> 
> *~*~*~*

Watching Coulson for nearly a week, Barton found himself in his room and thinking hard about what he had found out about his roommate and friend. The other man used the various hidey holes that were around the apartment to his best advantage and had hidden quite the cache of pictures and videos about him in various outfits and settings. It had been surprising up until the moment that he thought about that the other man using them to get himself off.

 

He had to get a new tube of lubricant after that particular episode, the thought setting him off each time he had it.

 

Shaking his head with a groan, Barton cracked his neck and hummed softly before smirking. Sliding off his bed and landing with a slight thunk on the floor below the bed, he walked under his bed and sat at his desk, opening his computer. Opening his laptop, he logged into one of his bank accounts and checked the balance, once more smirking to himself. That done, he moved to another site and made a reservation to Coulson’s favorite restaurant for the next week and stood up to go talk to the other man.

 

“I hope that you’re not going to be busy next week,” he drawled, walking up to where Coulson was chopping tomatoes to, by the looks of the items scattered about the kitchen, for spaghetti sauce.

 

“Not too much so. I have a few days off that I was going to use to catch up on my sleep and the news reports,” Coulson replied as he finished cutting the tomatoes and placing them into a blender with several dried herbs and some olive oil.

 

“Good. I have reservations for us on Tuesday at your favorite restaurant,” Barton chuckled, smirking at the other man before the blender was started, turning the things into a semi-smooth mixture.

 

Turning the blender off, Coulson gave Barton a curious look and tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, pouring the sauce into a pan, using a rubber spatula to scrape it out of the blender. “When did you make those?”

 

“A while ago,” Barton lied, smiling lightly and shrugging. Coulson gazed at him with some curiosity, apparently not believing him. “I was going to take someone I had met a while ago but they flaked out on me, so instead of letting the reservations go to waste, I figured I would take you with me,” he chuckled, shrugging one shoulder.

 

Coulson hummed before nodding. “Fine. Tuesday. At what time?” he asked, going back to his spaghetti making.

 

“Be ready by seven and I’ll drive ya,” Barton stated, smirking and clapping the other on the back before heading off into his room once more to continue his seduction of his ex-handler and now friend.

 

Come Tuesday at seven on the dot, Coulson was dressed in a pair of black pants and simple dark purple shirt that looked rather good on him considering it was nearly the same shade of Barton’s purple. Barton had decided on black pants to go along with a black shirt, leaving his hair free to fall as it wanted.

 

“You look good in purple,” Barton chuckled, getting a small smile from Coulson as he smoothed a bit of his hair down and moved to the front hall of the apartment. Gathering his jacket, the handler slipped on the soft, tailored coat that he preferred when going out and pulled it on. Barton followed after, pulling on his own coat, this one a soft, dark brown leather that went well with his looks, and grabbed their keys and wallets before walking out of the door of their apartment.

 

Barton drove the two of them to the restaurant and led the way inside, smiling at the host, getting their table easily enough, sitting down and ordering their drinks. Both men ordered a simple ale that they could sip at while they waited for their appetizers and dinners.

 

“So tell me the truth, Barton. Why did you set this up?” Coulson asked once their appetizers had been delivered, picking up a thin slice of garlic bread, biting into it with a hum. Barton groaned and rubbed at his face with a sigh.

 

“Man, why did I think that it would get past you, huh?” he chuckled, sitting back and picking up his glass of ale, sipping at it and enjoying the rather complex flavors.

 

“Because you keep forgetting that I did work with you for nearly a year and know all of your tricks and tells?” Coulson asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend with a chuckle.

 

“True, to true,” Barton huffed out with a soft laugh. “Alright, so the truth is that I was given a mission to help you relax. Apparently you’re snapping at people again, and I mean they’re afraid that they lose body parts each time you snap,” he continued, waving a piece of bread at the other.

 

“Oh? And what were the particulars?” Coulson asked as the waiter placed down a bowl of rolls with dipping butters and sauces.

 

Barton smirked and sat back, stealing one of the sauces for himself, getting a playful scowl from the other man. “Well, they just told me that I needed to get you to relax in some way or another. At least that’s what the official mission statement said.”

 

“And what did Fury state?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk, leaning forward and swirling his beer for a few seconds before drinking from the cup.

 

“Fury’s mission statement was that either I fuck you myself or find you someone to take to bed to fuck. Either way, your sexual needs have been taken cared of and you can relax so that the secretaries don’t feel the urge to run screaming from your office every time you snarl,” he continued, shrugging one shoulder. Coulson moaned and rubbed at his face.

 

“That wasn’t all that he said, was it?” he asked, Barton shaking his head. “Okay, so what do you know now, you damnable archer?” Barton asked, waving a hand at him.

 

“I found a few of your cubby holes with pictures and videos,” Barton drawled, biting into his dipped bread, humming slightly at the taste of garlic buttered bread. “So, here I am, to take you out and get you to relax,” he continued, shrugging.

 

“So what are you planning on doing? Just the dinner or are you going to go through with Fury’s orders and fuck me?” he asked, the two falling into silence as the waiter came by with fresh cups of ale and their dinner, placing things down before them. Once the waiter left, he raised an eyebrow at the other, waving a hand at his friend.

 

“Oh, I was rather hoping that you would fuck me instead of the other way around really,” Barton stated, picking up his fork and swirling some of the cream noodles around a fork and eating the bite.

 

Coulson chuckled and wave his fork with a promising leer. “Then I suggest you keep the meal light but eat enough to have a lot of energy, my dear archer. I have a lot of sexual frustration to work off. It’s probably a good thing that I went for so much lubricant when I went out shopping on Saturday,” he chuckled, Barton’s eyes widening slightly at the thought of what was to come. His body shivered in anticipation and he was suddenly very glad that he had made sure that they had a couple of days off of being called in and working.

 

Barton had a feeling that both of them would be resting, fucking and taking very hot baths for the next few days.

 

 


	27. Fix Him 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Part: 27  
> Pairing: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 836  
> AN: A day late but I was feeling like blah yesterday and went to bed early. Sorry you guys. *hugs*
> 
> *~*~*~*

Barton was basking in the fact that he was loved and that his other half loved him just as much. It was a nice feeling, one that he didn’t often get to feel, but he was able to truly enjoy at the moment seeing as it was more than just the love of a friend or someone of his created family.

 

It was the love of a partner, a lover, and it ran deep within both of them.

 

Humming as he slowly stretched, he chuckled as he watched his lover get dressed for the day. Coulson had showered, along with taken him up against the shower wall, which had been fun, before smoothing his hair back and putting on deodorant and a light cologne. Following that had been the putting on of the suit which had him pulling on his boxers, socks, pants, shirt; pulled on, buttoned and tucked in of course; and tie. Then he had to fix his hair all over again, making sure that it would sit right.

 

Barton chuckled and slipped out of their bed for a second time, going to make their breakfast with a hum of contentment. As he scrambled eggs and chopped vegetables for omelets, he chuckled to himself and shook his head. It had only been a week since they had gotten together, and all because of Mission Cupid as they were calling it, but it had been a wonderful week so far.

 

They kept things quiet of course. It wasn’t because they didn’t want to tell their friends what was going on between them, about their relationship, but because it was fun to do a run around on some of the brightest minds out there. Especially one Tony Stark. Even Jarvis had sworn to keep quiet about their relationship, using the quirks in his programming to get away with just giving the other’s clues when they asked, but not saying it out right.

 

It was turning out to be a lot of fun for the both of them.

 

Chuckling as he poured the eggs and vegetables into a hot pan, he soon had the food cooking and coffee perking when the coffee pot timer set it off. Coulson came out and stole a fast kiss before moving to pull down plates and cups, toast the bread and pour their coffee, making it like they both liked it. Black with just a bit of sugar for Coulson, to give him that first jolt of caffeine to finish waking up, and for Barton, no sugar with just enough creamer to make the coffee more toffee colored then black.

 

“Damn, you are good,” Barton drawled as he tasted his coffee quickly before flipping the egg and vegetable mix over with an easy flip of his wrist.

 

Coulson chuckled and buttered the toast, spreading some of the apple butter that they both enjoyed. “I am just that good. I was your handler and had to know what made you happy so you could do your job after all,” he teased, offering the plates and watching as the archer placed their omelets down onto them with a smirk.

 

“And this included my preference in coffee?” Barton asked teasingly as they sat down at their coffee table.

 

“No. That came from making you coffee in the morning while you were running out of the apartment like your ass was on fire,” he teased, getting a huff as they dug into breakfast. “I have a meeting this morning but I should be done by lunch if you’re not doing anything. I was thinking of ordering in today.”

 

“Sounds good to me. Get the usual Chinese if you can?” Barton asked, raising an eyebrow at the other with a smile. Coulson nodded and the two finished their breakfast in easy silence. Coulson was the first to leave, heading to his meeting while Barton got ready and left for his own day, both happy with how things were going.

 

They were loved and loved in return. Things were good.


	28. Fix Him 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 28  
> Pairings/Characters: Phil/Clint, Fury  
> Word count: 825  
> AN: And we have another one! :D Enjoy.
> 
> *~*~*~*

‘ _The vents need to be cleaned again. Hell, so do the filters,_ ’ Barton mused as he crawled through them, wrinkling his nose at the dust that flew up around him as he moved. He wasn’t really surprised by how dusty it was around him, but really this was ridiculous. All he wanted to do was drop in on his boyfriend in his apartment office, work on his stealth skills and get laid, but he had to deal with all of the dust.

 

“When I can, I’m telling Stark to send a cleaner robot through these things,” he muttered before finding the right vent and dropping in with a smirk. Coulson looked up from his papers and turned to gaze at him with an amused look on his face.

 

“Why is it you can’t use the door like normal people?” Coulson asked, turning around in his chair and sitting back with an amused smile on his lips.

 

“Because I wanted to sneak in and normal people would use a window. Since your office doesn’t have a window, but a façade of one, I had to use the vents. But I like the vents,” Barton drawled as he shoved off his shoes and crawled onto his partner’s lap with a smirk. Coulson snorted and pulled the archer closer, hands coming to rest on slim hips before one slid down to tease his lover’s groin.

 

“Is that so?” he asked, turning his hand to cup the growing hardness that he could feel, teasing it with the ball of his hand. Barton chuckled and rocked his hip forward, smirking down at him.

 

“Yes, that is so,” Barton groaned, rocking into the hand again, unsurprised when Coulson tugged his pants open and slipped his hands inside with a leer. His own hands were working on following his lover’s example, opening Coulson’s pants and reaching inwards to curl around a hard cock. They both moaned lowly as they stroked each other, falling into a slow pace before shifting so that their lengths were freed and rubbing together.

 

Coulson growled and sealed their lips together, curling his fingers around them, stroking and rubbing to draw moans out from his archer. Barton groaned and curled his fingers over the top of the chair, rocking his hips in time with the hand that pressed his length tight against his lover’s matching hardness. The handler’s hips rocked upwards in time with the pace with Barton’s, his hand spreading the pre-cum down over their cocks, making his movements that much easier.

 

Shifting slightly, Coulson pulled back from the kiss and shoved Barton’s pants down with his free hand before reaching out to pull open the top drawer of his desk. Finding the bottle of lubricant that he wanted, he shook it before popping the top and pouring some of it over their lengths, making the movements that much better. Barton groaned and tossed his head back as his hips rolled and rocked, loving the friction of their pricks rubbing together, before a guttural moan escaped him as a slick finger rubbed against his entrance, teasing the muscles before slipping inwards.

 

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking first back into the finger, taking it in as deep as possible, enjoying the way the work roughened finger rubbed against his inner walls, before rocking forward into the hand that still stroked them. Settling into an easy rhythm, the two men moaned and growled in time with each movement, Coulson speeding up his movements as he felt Barton tense and shudder with his impending climax.

 

“Come on, Barton, cum for me. I want to see you do it again,” the handler growled, working to bring the both of them off. Barton groaned again, the sound utterly filthy and rich, before he came, spilling over the moving hand and the cock that was still pressed against him, the finger in him teasing his body with knowing movements. Coulson groaned, hips twitching upwards, and he came, adding to their mess with a few more jerks of his hand.

 

Going slightly limp, relaxing to bask in the afterglow of their climaxes, Coulson and Barton traded a few kisses before the archer slipped off of his lover’s lap, wrinkling his nose at the mess that they had created. “Now I need to change,” he grumbled, shaking his head with a sigh before pulling his shirt off. “And so do you for that matter,” he teased, pointing to Coulson with a smirk.

 

“So I do. I also need to go food shopping to,” Coulson chuckled, picking up what he had been working on, showing Barton that it was a food list. “Come on. You’re coming with this time. We have some heavy shopping to do since we need to refresh our meat,” he drawled, making his lover moan in denial.

 

“You bring me to a world shaking climax and then make me go shopping. So mean.” 


	29. Fix Him 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Story: 29  
> Pairing: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 563  
> AN: Another chapter down. Enjoy everyone.
> 
> *~*~*~*

They were in Coulson’s office, both on the couch with the door closed and phone turned off for the most part. The remnants of their lunch that they had brought down from their apartment, another left over mix, sat on the coffee table before them, the containers all stacked neatly together.

 

Barton had come to his office with the usual bag of food, having gathered everything together and cooked it up for them, before bringing it down and feeding the ever working Coulson. After that, the two had come together in a kiss, which had led them to where they were at the moment.

 

With Coulson’s hands clenching at the back of the couch, legs spread, and Barton’s hands down his pants, teasing him with slow, hard strokes to his cock. He was groaning lowly, hips rocking up into the touches, eyes running over his ruffled lover, having blown his mind and gotten his own teasing in.

 

Barton was smirking and was about to pull the hard length in his hands out of the others pants before a chime rang in the office, telling them that there was someone coming up in the elevator and heading for his personal office. Stark had put it in as a new measure of keeping those who were lost in their work from being surprised and the surprise becoming a dead body. Or unconscious since they were only allowed stun guns and tranquillizer guns while in the office, their guns locked in a drawer.

 

Pulling away from each other quickly, cursing up a storm, Coulson and Barton quickly stood and started to pull their clothes back together. Barton zipped up and re-tucked his shirt before moving to a small mirror and putting his hair back into some semblance of order. Coulson had a bit of a harder time seeing as his cock was still half hard, the chime and knowing someone was coming to his office only making him lose a little of his arousal. Finally getting his pants zipped and shirt re-tucked, he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on as he sat down into his chair, hiding his groin easily.

 

One hand smoothed his hair back as Barton gathered the dishes and sat back, looking as unruffled as possible all things considered. Once the person was dealt with, the two lover’s shared a look between each other and smiled, laughing lowly.

 

“Okay, so that rather killed the mood didn’t it?” Barton drawled, picking up the bag of chips that he had brought with him along with the bowl of homemade dip.

 

“Indeed it did. At least you got off,” Coulson teased before picking up his new paperwork, flipping through it with a smirk. Barton smirked and dipped his chip into the dip before nodding his head with a soft laugh.

 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make it up to you later tonight,” he promised, winking at his lover before they settled into do what they were doing. Once Barton was done with his chips, he gathered everything up and gave his lover one last kiss before slipping out, pouting that they hadn’t been able to finish what they had been doing while Coulson muttered about blue balls for the rest of the day.


	30. Fix Him 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Story: 30  
> Characters: Avengers, Phil  
> Word count: 1,347  
> AN: We have another chapter up and ready to read. Enjoy.
> 
> *~*~*~*

The call about an acid monster for the Avengers to deal with came to them while they were having a day together, forcing them to go and grab their respective uniforms and weapons. Phil headed to the van and headed out while the others took one of the smaller crafts, or in the case of Tony, flew themselves to the spot. The handler sat in the back with two others who worked with him on creating strategies and finding weaknesses for the group as they fought.

 

“So what do we have?” he asked, putting on his headset and listening to the talk going back and forth between everyone. He had to smirk at the sheer amount of snark that was coming from his lover as he fired at what looked to be smaller acid monsters of the huge one. Each monster was a neon yellow with neon green streaks swirling through their bodies, various spots of neon purples and blues adding some rather interesting psychedelic looks to the creatures.

 

Clint was complaining about having to hit the tiny specks of purple to make the acid monsters go into a sort of gelatinous liquid that didn’t look corrosive.

 

“We have one large class D acid monster. From what Thor has been able to tell us in our information exchanges, the species comes from the same solar system as the Asgardians do,” came the prompt reply from one of his helpers. Statistics were scrolling past several of the screens while the others showed what each of the Avengers was seeing along side the cameras that were pointed at them. “To dispatch them without dissolving everything their bodies touch, you must hit one of the colors that don’t move. The purples and blues seem to be vital organs of some sort.”

 

“I see,” Phil hummed before groaning. “It had to be things that have moving organs right? Did you guys hear that?” he asked, calling out over the airways to the rest of the Avengers. He got a chorus of yes’s from the team as they continued to take out the smaller creatures, occasionally trying to hit the larger creature and getting batted aside.

 

Natasha started to curse as she stripped off her shoe having kicked to death one of the creatures, tossing it at another one and hitting one of the streaks as it moved and watching it fall over with a screech. It got back up but went down for good when she unloaded a clip into the spot that she had hit with her shoe.

 

“ _I liked these shoes_ ,” she complained as she headed for a better advantage point and some more ammunition for her gun.

 

“I have a wonderful clothing budget for you guys seeing as some of your outfits do cost quite a bit to replace,” Phil promised, scanning over the information on how to kill the bigger acid creature.

 

“ _Does this mean that I can replace those pants that now have holes in the bottom of their legs_?” Clint asked over the line, getting a snicker from Tony.

 

“ _I thought you already replaced those seeing as I don’t ever see you wear them on these things any more_ ,” the man said as he sent a small test blast at the larger creature.

 

“He hasn’t. I bought a new pair, Hawk. Don’t worry. They’re being created now since those pants had the interwoven strands to help create a more resistant fabric,” Phil stated, getting a low chuckle that promise all sorts of things.

 

“ _Please stop the, as Tony has often said, insistent flirting while we have a creature made of destructive things,_ ” Thor complained as he used his powers to strike several of the smaller creatures, killing them. Phil looked at one of the feeds and blinked a few times.

 

“Hey, look, they turn ashy when struck by lightning,” he said before snorting as the bodies fell apart, leaving behind the acid glands. Only one was damaged and started to eat away at some of the rubble from the buildings around them, Thor hitting the spot with some of his lightning as he dodged the acidic spit of the largest monster. “Okay people, if you set them on fire they burn hot and fast before the fire dies. Lightning turns them ashy but be warned about the acid sacks,” Phil called out over the com lines before shaking his head.

 

Natasha cursed and rushed to the supply van, knowing that there were at the least flame throwers that she could use as Clint started to use arrows that would set anything on fire should the casings be damaged. Seeing as how he was firing at acid monsters that tended to just suck in the arrows, they would work well. Tony recalibrated his weapon systems to set fire to anything that they hit, already mentally calculating how much he was going to end up paying in the end. Thor continued on with hitting the creatures with his lightning bolts and attacking the main creature while Steve joined Natasha in gathering a flame thrower. It looked as if Bruce had de-Hulked and was currently dodging around the fighters and collecting the acid bags with special gloves and putting them into acid resistant bags.

 

Phil hummed softly and reached out to tap one of his people. “Go gather the specialty cases and make sure that we're ready to dispose of toxic waste,” he stated, waving at the man and getting a nod as he slipped out of the door and headed off to do so. “Bruce, can you make sure that you bring them to the supply van to contain?” he asked over the communications line.

 

“ _Not a problem,_ ” Bruce called, sounding on the breathless side as he ran to the next pouch, scooping it up and running for the supply van that kept shifting as the fight went on.

 

“ _Watch it!_ ” Tony called out as the acid monster growled/roared and spit out a glob of acid, the smaller monsters getting away.

 

Phil and the last of his people in the van looked up at the top of the van before frowning heavily at the solid thud. “Shit. Get out, get out now!” he roared out, shoving his people towards the back of the van with a growl.

 

As they got out, a couple of them had spots of acid that started to eat through their clothes, including Phil. Phil and his personally chosen hacker stripped out of the clothes that were disappearing, stripping down to nothing but their skins and blushes. “Fuck,” Phil groaned, picking up his phone and flipping open it, glad that it hadn't been eaten by the acid. “We need pick up and clothes,” he told the other person when they answered. Getting a confirmation from the supply van, he and the hacker moved to hide behind some rubble and stay out of the way.

 

Clint happened to look down as Phil found a spot out of the way, hiding his groin as much as he could and choked, sending the arrow in his hold deep into the acid monster and setting it on fire along side the other attacks by his partners. Swallowing, he complained about monsters and their nasty habits of destroying clothes. This time though, it was a rather spectacular way of destroying someone's clothes. Sighing and groaning, the archer grabbed his quiver and took the short way down the building, sliding and jumping over the rubble.

 

“Okay, you guys, let's get going,” he heard Tony call out as he landed near the group. Sighing, Clint walked over to where his lover was hiding and gave him an amused look.

 

“Not. One. Word. Not a single one,” Phil growled, eyes narrowed at his amused looking lover before scowling and standing up as the supply van rolled up. Clint took the offered clothes and handed it to his huffing lover, making sure that the others couldn't see him.

 

“Lose something there, Coulson?” Tony drawled as he walked up to the handler. He laughed loudly when the man just gave him a dark glare and fixed his tie. “Let's head to the tower, everyone.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Natasha said, smirking at her friend as the other glared at Thor for daring to leer at his lover.

 

 

 


	31. Fix Him 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Story: 31  
> Characters: Avengers, Phil  
> Word count: 1,296  
> AN: And we have chapter 31! *loves* *chuckles* I have a few things to do now. Byes.
> 
> *~*~*~*

“So, what happened to make you lose your clothes there, Phil?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow as they set up the food that they had gathered for their post fight gathering. Phil glared at her and popped the pizza’s into the oven. He sighed softly and closed the oven as he stood. He had changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt after he had checked in with medical and written up his report. The rest of the group had filled out their own reports before reporting to medical to be cleared.

 

And now they were coming together for pizza, beer and nachos, Natasha having chosen the nights series of movies. Most of them weren’t in any language that they knew but she promised that they had wonderful dubbing if they didn’t want to deal with subtitles. Phil and Natasha offered to set things up and make the food since all of the ingredients were in the refrigerator of the communal apartment.

 

“I was hit by some acid when the van was dissolved by a acid spit ball,” Phil replied as he moved to start readying the nacho’s, starting by layering several trays with freshly made, low fat tortilla chips, courtesy of Natasha. She watched as he deftly added the cooked hamburger flavored with a taco mix done by Clint himself before topping each hot dish with a mix of cheeses that they knew would turn into the perfect goo for the nachos. Once that was done, she smirked as he put the other topping offerings into dishes and put them out as the others finally arrived.

 

Tony was the first, soon followed by Thor and Steve, all of them heading for the nachos, knowing that Clint wouldn’t touch them while Natasha and Phil would have their own smaller dishes made from shredded chicken. After the three had made their first plates of food, Stark turned around and smirked at the Avengers handler.

 

“So, I can see why Clint was so happy to get you into his bed there, Coulson,” he chirped brightly. Phil simply gave him a long look as he pulled out his and Natasha’s plates from the warm oven.

  
Phil handed the assassin her plate before leaning against the counter next to him with a snort. “It’s not because of my size but rather the fact that I do know what to do when it comes to my lovers,” he stated as Clint walked in.

 

The archer chuckled richly and placed a kiss on his cheek with an amused look on his face. “I can attest that size is only a small part of why I’m with Phil,” he drawled, stealing a bite of nachos from his lover before going for the platter of plain, freshly made tortilla chips and some of the taco makings that were sitting in crock pots and warmer dishes. Making his own little plate, he flopped into a chair with a groan before smirking at the others. “Come on you guys, you should know that I’m not one for size. Some of my most powerful arrows are the smallest after all.”

  
“Well, his arrow is far from small,” Tony drawled, smirking at Phil and getting a narrowed eyed glare.

 

Thor, clueless to innuendos most of the time, caught onto that one and cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I do believe that you will die a horrible death if you keep speaking of such things, Stark,” he said, Bruce moving to hide somewhere near Steve, who was finding his plate rather interesting.

  
“He will to. I know things that Pepper would love to know,” Phil stated as he sat next to his lover and ate a bite of his nachos. Natasha was trying to hide her laughter behind her beer mug, eyes dancing over the edge of it and shaking her head while the two blushing ones had taken their own seats and was quietly betting how long it would be before Tony was killed.

 

“Tell me, how is it that you were hit with the acid that destroyed your...van?” Thor asked, turning the conversation to a safer part of it.

 

Phil chewed his piece before wiping his mouth with a slight smile. Shrugging he said, “I was the last one out of the van when we were hit by the slime. We hadn’t seen what it could do to cars much less steel so we weren’t sure if we had time to gather shit or not. Found out we didn’t when a hole started to appear and acid started to drip in. One of my hackers got hit in the process but he’s fine. A slight irritation on his wrist but nothing more than a minor rash like burn.”

 

Tony and Thor shared a look before turning to Natasha, who had finally come out of the kitchen with her drink, muttering something about idiots in Russian. “That’s good that he didn’t have much damage done to him because of the acid monsters. Thor, did we find out who opened that portal that allowed the creatures through?” she asked as she sat down and continued to eat her plate.

 

“Yes, we did,” Thor replied as he finished his plate in a few bites with a large smile. “It was a smaller magical user from our planet that apparently followed Loki’s every move with an almost obsessive lust for him,” he explained, shrugging one shoulder before scowling. “He was very unhappy that we stopped him from attacking the Earth with the Chitari,” he continued. Standing, he grabbed some more of the nachos and a bottle of ale for himself.

 

“So in retaliation, he opens a portal and sets a creature that hack up loogies of acid to attack us?” Phil asked, sounding a little pissed off at that fact before grunting. “Just my luck. A pissed off Loki fan boy is the cause of all of that destruction. Is Odin going to do anything about the clean up?”

 

“He is being stripped of status and power, his money going to Fury to pay for the damages and the rebuilding of New York. It seems as if it is often rebuilding,” Thor admitted, shrugging one shoulder with a smile as Clint snorted and laid out, head in Phil’s lap.

 

“It’s always being rebuilt,” Tony chuckled, shaking his head. “Between the idiots that come for me and the ones that come for the Avengers, I’m surprised it’s still standing,” he continued.

 

“I know several construction companies that are kept quite busy throughout the year,” Bruce put in, smiling and shaking his head. “I’m just glad that Tony and Pepper were able to rebuild the Avengers tower so well and against any attacks.”

 

“Indeed, I agree with him. It’s a good thing,” Steve said, standing up himself when the timer for the pizzas went off in the kitchen. He soon came back out with them on the cool pizza platters, sliced and ready to be eaten. Everyone grabbed their slices and sat back as Natasha started the movie for them, starting their night in. Thor would work on writing out a full history of the idiot who had opened the portal for the acid creatures the next day while the rest of them either trained or caught up on paperwork. Phil himself would work on filling out the paperwork for a brand new, fully loaded van to replace the one that had been eaten down to the tires and plastic bits.

 

He was not going to look forward to that and knew that he would have to deal with whatever van was running around for use. He wondered if Tony would be willing to create a van that they could use.

 

 


	32. Fix Him 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Characters: Avengers  
> Chapter: 32  
> Word Count:  
> AN: A week later but as I said in the AN of Touch My Heart 2, I lost ALL of my files but was able to get most of them back. Ugh. So just enjoy this and I hope to see your thoughts. :D
> 
> *~*~*~*

The Avengers had decided to have a get together for a movie night. It had been a split second decision and they had put Clint and Phil on food duty, Tony handing over a credit card to Phil to buy the food. Between the two men they had bought enough food to feed a small army, or to be more precise, the Avengers with such bottomless stomachs.

 

They had created dips to go with the variety of chips, vegetables and pretzels, sliced and peeled fruit, sliced meat to go with the slices of cheese and crackers that they had bought. Soda, juice and mass amounts of alcohol had been collected, which included three very large, special order kegs that Tony had ordered for Thor alone, and various mixable alcohols to. They had also bought food for the dinner, Barton showing off his culinary skills in preparing dough, a chunk of pepperoni and a block of mozzarella for pizza.

 

It was all sitting in the common room like area, the pizza’s just waiting for them to go to their apartment and make them for the hoard that was soon coming.

 

But at the moment, they were ignoring the fact that it was almost time to have a party. Coulson had been teasing Barton for far too long for his tastes, bending over and shifting things around for them. The last time he had done so, the archer had yanked his lover around and shoved him up against the table before pressing him against the wall, sliding between his legs and rubbing up against him with a growl.

 

They had landed on the couch, Barton on top and rubbing his thigh against Coulson’s thigh, the two men kissing and sliding their hands up and under the restricting clothing. Coulson was groaning, rocking against the rock hard thigh between his legs, feeling it shift and press with each of the archer’s movements, groaning softly.

 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as Barton moved his lips lower and tugged at his shirt to expose a new piece of skin to tease.

 

“That’s what I can hope will happen,” Barton growled, nibbling at the bit of skin he had exposed, drawing up a new mark on his lover’s neck.

 

“I’m sorry to do this to you, sirs, but it seems as if Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers are on the elevator heading your way,” Jarvis said, breaking through their lust induced haze. Groaning, the two men pulled apart and growled about not being able to continue what they wanted to do. Straightening up, Coulson ran a hand through his hair and worked on calming down from his need, smoothing down his shirt and fixing his pants so that his arousal wasn’t quite as noticeable. Once he had soothed his lust down, he looked to one of the cameras.

 

“Jarvis can you do a quick swish of the room? There’s a few of us who do have some serious sense of smells,” he said, smiling at the rush of air that flowed in and out of the room. “Thank you, Jarvis.”

 

“Of course, Agent Coulson,” Jarvis replied as Barton popped the top of an ale and drained half of it before flopping into a chair, looking ruffled but still himself. He looked rather comfortable and he sighed softly before pouting.

 

“Why is it we start this and then someone has to bother us?” Barton whined before draining the rest of his ale and putting it aside, accepting the small bowl of pretzels and the bottle of water from the other.

 

“Because it’s just our luck, that’s why,” Coulson snorted, shaking his head with an amused expression on his face as Tony and Steve walked into the common room with curious looks on their faces and piles of movies in hands.

 

“What’s your luck?” Tony asked, putting the movies down on one table where it was clear as Coulson snorted, shaking his head with a smile.

 

“Nothing, Stark,” he drawled, shaking his head and picking up a plate to make a bit of snack for himself. “The rest coming soon?”

 

“They are,” Steve replied, tilting his head, catching the sounds of the elevator moving and smiled at the other men.

 


	33. Fix Him 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 33  
> Character: Phil, Coulson  
> Word count: 1,564  
> AN: Another chapter, another day to get back to work on things. :D
> 
> *~*~*~*

He had just come in from a mission, bruised a little around his ribs, a little battered all over but all around just fine physically and mentally. But the moment his lover had caught sight of him, he had ended up being forcibly pushed towards the Helicarrier’s medical bay by a very unhappy Phil.

 

“ Come on, Phil, I’m just bruised and tired,” Clint grumped, pouting unhappily as he was walked forcibly into the medical bay and pushed to sit on a stretcher by the handler.

 

“ I’m going to let the nice doctor decide that for you,” Phil stated, nodding to the doctor before smoothing out his shirt jacket. “For now, you let the doctor do what he needs to do and I’ll meet you outside when you’re done. I’ll be going to file your report for you with your handler and the archivist so you don’t have to worry about that,” he promised.

 

Clint sighed softly and nodded his head, knowing he wasn’t going to win this particular fight with Phil. He tugged his shirt off at the doctor’s orders as Phil walked out with one last promising smirk, heading to file the report as he promised. Once the filing was done, Phil once more went to the medical hall and stood just out of sight of the doorway to the medical unit, waiting for his lover to be released.

 

Clint allowed the doctor to check over him, which took two hours for all of the needed tests, before being released with a clean bill of health and orders to relax for the next few days. Grumbling about how he could have been at home with a bathtub all to himself and some aspirin already, Clint pulled on his shirt with careful movements, glad for the pain killers he had been given already before leaving with a grumble.

 

As he stepped out of the door and turned to the left, he squawked softly as a hand reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him back slightly and shoving him up against the wall. Clint was quick to moan as his lover pressed up against him and sealed their lips in a kiss, tongues coming to play together as they indulged in the kisses they hadn’t been able to do for the last two weeks while Clint had been on his mission. Groaning again, he cupped the back of his lover’s head and drew him closer, rubbing against the strong body that was pressed against his own. His hands roamed downwards, cupping a well toned ass, drawing Phil’s hips into his own, rubbing hard against him.

 

“ You have been gone for way to long,” Phil growled, tugging on Clint’s hair lightly, getting a moan as the prick pressed against his own jerked.

 

“ Yes, way to fucking long. Shit, do I need you,” Clint groaned, rubbing against his slightly older lover before they dived back into their kiss, tongues tangling and moving against each other. Their hands worked over each other, touching what they could, finding what skin was available and teasing it, all around just enjoying being with each other after so long.

 

It was the sounds of someone walking down the hall that made them pull apart and look down the hall. “Fuck,” Phil grunted before he narrowed his eyes and dragged Clint into a little unused supply closet, closing the door solidly behind them, pressing his lover against the door once more.

 

Sealing their lips together once more, Phil resumed their kiss as his hands worked their way up and under his archer’s clothing, tugging them up, since he doubted that either of them wanted to strip completely, or in the case of Clint’s pants, tugging them down so that they rested just under his thighs.

 

“ Are you going to fuck me here?” Clint asked, eyes wide as his prick twitched in interest as Phil worked his pants down far enough for them to move but to also get to what he wanted most.

 

“ Yes. Or rather I was hoping that you would fuck me, but me fucking you works to,” Phil smirked, pulling out the little bottle of lubricant that he had stashed into a pocket when he had come up to the Helicarrier. He hadn’t expected to actually be able to use it but he didn’t want to be caught unprepared just in case they had found a hidden place to enjoy themselves in some privacy and reacquaint each other with their bodies. Like what they were doing right at that moment.

 

“ I can do that,” Clint groaned, eyes lighting up at the chance to fuck his partner, to feel him tight around his prick and sucking him in for more. His hands worked at pulling Phil’s shirt up and out of his pants before undoing the pants and making them drop to the ground. Flipping their positions, he pushed his lover’s chest up against the door and rubbed against the bare ass before him, drawing a low groan from the both of them. “I hate long missions,” he hissed.

 

“ You’re not the only one, Clint. My bed is cold when you’re not there,” Phil moaned lowly, rubbing his hand over his own cock, moaning happily. He groaned lowly, pressing back into the teasing movements, just enjoying the slow slide and the promise of what was to come.

 

“ Need the lube, Phil,” Clint purred into one ear, nipping at the lobe and getting a shiver in return. Phil handed the lube over and watched over his shoulder as his lover shook it a bit before slicking his fingers with some of it, tucking it into his pocket for the time being. He would grab it later when he needed more, but for now his fingers were slick and the ass before him was begging him to fuck it, the way Phil was twitching his hips and looking at him over his shoulder.

 

Growling softly, Clint rubbed his fingers against the ring of muscles, teasing them to relax for him before sliding a finger inwards once he felt them relax. Sighing, Phil rolled his hips back into the finger and laid his forehead onto the door, trying to keep his sounds down along with his lover. Soon three fingers were working in and out of him, spreading him open in easy motions, slicking him well for what was to come as Clint pressed up against him.

 

“ Do you have condoms? I don’t think you want to clean up that mess,” Clint said, voice deep as he shivered, Phil squeezing around his fingers teasingly.

 

“ I’m always prepared,” Phil grunted as his nerves were teased and stroked, bending over slightly to pull out two foil packages, handing one over to his lover before ripping the other one open himself. He knew that neither of them wanted to clean up that mess, much less explain to whoever had to clean it up where it had come from, so he simply rolled the condom down his length as Clint pulled away to roll his own down over his length.

 

Clint once more pulled out the lube and poured some more onto his hand, slicking his condom coated cock before returning his fingers to the other male’s entrance to make sure that the other was slick and open enough for him. Once he was sure that Phil was slick and ready for him, he grasped the base of his length and pressed up against the stretched entrance. Taking a slow breath, he pushed forward, the two men groaning around clenched teeth, Phil pressing his lips against his arm while Clint pressed his mouth against his lover’s shoulder.

 

Once he was all the way in, Clint rested for a moment before slowly pulling out and rocking back in, groaning against his lover’s shoulder. He shifted his feet before starting to rock in and out, taking Phil in a slow movement, making sure to stroke just right over the sensitive nerves. His hand slipped down from the hip that he had been cupping before curling his fingers around the hard prick that he found, stroking over it in time with his thrusts.

 

Phil gasped and bit into his arm as he shuddered and came under the friction, toes curling and making him moan, spilling into the condom as Clint squeezed his length and bit into his shoulder. The archer groaned and followed after as the muscles around him squeezed tight and milked his climax out of him.

 

“ Fuck,” Clint groaned, rubbing his nose against the other’s shoulder, laying a kiss on the skin before pulling out, grasping the base of the condom as he did so. Phil stood up straight with a smirk and pulled off his own, the two tying off their condoms and dropping them into the trash can on the cleaning cart amongst papers and paper towels. “That was good.”

 

“Indeed it was,” Phil chuckled, pulling up his pants and straightening his clothing as Clint followed his example, the two peeking out of the room to make sure that no one was coming. The handler smirked at his lover and the two made a note to catch a ride down to Avenger’s Tower later, Phil heading to the monitoring station and removing the film of them walking in and leaving the cleaning closet.

 


	34. Fix Him 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 34  
> Character: Phil, Coulson, Tony  
> Word count: 864  
> AN: And we have a date. :D *cackles* And yes, we do poke fun at the Tony. Just a little though.
> 
> *~*~*~*

They were going out on another date, wanting to spend some time together on one of their rare days off, but they found themselves waylaid by the ever inquisitive Tony Stark. The brilliant man had come by to talk about something or another in regards to a new feature to be added to tower, wanting to get Coulson’s thoughts on the matter since he knew all of the Avengers well enough not to insult them with something stupid.

 

What he hadn’t really expected was to see Coulson playing with his tie as he walked out of his bedroom, wearing a pair of rather nice black pants and a simple blue shirt that looked like it rarely saw the light of day. Tony had raised an eyebrow as the handler had glared at him for daring to enter his apartment without knocking, something that they had all agreed on when they had talked rules for the apartments.

 

“You didn’t knock, Stark,” Coulson drawled as he finished fixing his tie around his neck, smoothing it down and grabbing a vest that was laid out over the back of his chair.

 

“I did. You just didn’t hear me,” Stark snorted, Jarvis chiming in that Stark had indeed knocked before entering the apartment. “Thank you, Jarvis,” he said, smiling smugly up at one camera.

 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Stark,” Jarvis replied, making Coulson roll his eyes as he pulled on his vest and tucked his tie into it before pulling on his jacket.

 

“What do you want, Tony?” Coulson asked, raising an eyebrow at the other man as he worked to make sure that his clothes were just right as Barton came out of his own room, wearing his own tailored tuxedo and looking rather dashing if Tony said so himself. At least he could admit to himself that he may be with Pepper and loved her dearly, but he worked with some of the hottest guys around, heroes or not.

 

“I came by to ask you guys about a few new features that I want to add to the tower,” Stark drawled before narrowing his eyes at the two men. Coulson had sat down on the couch and was in the process of pulling on his shoes while Barton was adjusting the sleeves of his shirt and looking rather bored with it all. “So, why are you two all dressed up?” he asked, pointing at the two men before him, swinging the finger back and forth with narrowed eyes.

 

“I won tickets to the ballet and am taking a date with me to see Swan Lake,” Coulson stated as he finished with his shoes and stood up once more. He tugged at his shirt sleeves and made sure that the cuff links he had chosen was just right.

 

“I bought tickets when I learned that he had won and called up one of my usual dates to go with us. We’re sharing a box,” Barton chuckled with a smile, holding up two tickets while Coulson did the same, eyes amused. “We’ll be out rather late and all that, but we can swing by sometime in the afternoon since we’re both off tomorrow,” he continued, Tony humming softly and leaning against the couches back.

 

“Yeah, sure. Just call when you come up. I think Pepper was planning on doing some mass cleaning on me tomorrow. Spring cleaning she called it,” Tony hummed, feeling as if something was off but not what. “Why are you two double dating?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

 

“Because I don’t want to end up being talked into going home with my date,” Coulson stated, smirking slightly as he grabbed his keys and wallet, tucking the tickets away into the inner pocket of his jacket. “I like her well enough but she is not one you wish to sleep with unless you’re dating her,” he stated, shrugging one shoulder, Tony knowing the type and understanding why Coulson wanted another couple with him.

 

“Yeah, I get ya. I’ll see you two tomorrow and we can go over the idea then,” he said, shaking his head and leaving. Once the door was closed, the two breathed out a sigh of relief that the ex-playboy had bought their excuse, trading amused looks between them.

 

“That was close,” Barton chuckled softly, shaking his head with a smile dancing on his lips as he finished getting ready for their date. They hadn’t lied when they said that they were double dating, an old friend of Coulson’s giving him a second set of tickets to go with them to the first showing of Swan Lake. But they had lied about who was going with who since Coulson’s friend was going with her girlfriend and Coulson was going with Barton.

 

“Indeed it was,” Coulson snorted, shaking his head with an amused look. “Luckily, Tony is oblivious to certain things, and easily fooled if you’re really good with lying,” he continued as Barton gathered what he needed. “Ready to go?”

 

“Yep. We’re meeting the girls at the theater right?” he asked, Coulson nodding his head as they left the apartment.


	35. Fix Him 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 35  
> Character: Phil, Clint, Original female characters  
> Word count: 1.535  
> AN: Aww, poor boys. :P
> 
> Tony, leave them alone.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Muttering about idiots and people who had to shove their noses into people’s business where it wasn’t wanted, Couslon pulled on a tie and straightened it as he glared at the mirror, Barton following his example. “Why did we agree to this?” he muttered, glaring at the suit that he was putting on.

 

“Because Tony is really damn good at guilt tripping us into doing just what he wants us to do,” Barton drawled as he pulled on his jackets and buttoning them up before smirking at the other man. “So, we’ll play nice and take these girls out, who are probably rather vapid to say the least, and get through dinner,” he continued as he pulled on his jacket and grabbed his things.

 

Barton left first, Coulson following soon after to pick up their so called dates, the two men having a feeling that it would be a disaster night.

 

Sighing as he pulled up to the apartment that he was supposed to pick up his so called date up from, he slid out of his car and walked up to the door way, ringing the bell with a frown. The house wasn’t bad looking, very nice and simple in the middle of one of the richest neighborhoods, and well taken cared of.

 

But he still didn’t like it. It was probably because of the fact that through the window next to him he could see a sea of pink.

 

Shuddering, Coulson schooled his face into a pleasant smile as his ‘date’, such as she was, came strolling down the stairs and opened the door to admit him into the house. She wasn’t bad looking all things considered. Soft blond hair that seemed natural was cut into a stylish pixie cut while her dress, a dark rose pink that curled around her frame and split up one leg, exposing the lean strength that spoke of a dancer.

 

“I shall be ready in a moment. Would you like a drink?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she smiled with pretty pink lips. Coulson smiled a bit wider and shook his head.

 

“No thank you. I need to drive and I plan on having my drink at dinner,” he stated, clearly not happy but the woman missing it. “Your name is Miranda, correct?” he asked, making sure he had the right name and woman.

 

“That’s me,” Miranda chirped as she moved to the stairs again, heading to grab her jacket. Once she was up the stairs, Coulson allowed his smile to drop and rub at his face with a grimace. She was perky and bright and by the sounds of it, a ditz. He hated ditzes. He wasn’t like Tony and neither was Barton.

 

Thinking of the man, he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and checked the text messages that he knew he had gotten, the phone set on vibrate. Snickering softly, he read the complaints of a dipshit date who didn’t know a ballet from an opera and responded back to the text’s, telling him to suck it up. Smiling at his date as she came down in a long jacket that looked like fur, but felt fake in his hands, he lead her out to the car and helped her into it.

 

The rest of the night went somewhat okay, considering she did most of the talking while they were at dinner and then looked bored as they watched the play that Tony had chosen for them. Coulson found the play rather interesting considering it was one of the rare Shakespeare plays that were running around once more, even with her hand continually trying to find a place on his leg near his groin.

 

After the play, he drove her home and walked her to her door, his face going blank at the flirtatious smile on her lips as she played with a bit of hair, trying to look flirty. “Do you think you would like to come inside for a little while?” she asked, one hand coming to rest on Coulson’s chest as she smiled once more.

 

“I think not,” he stated, taking her hand and removing it. His phone decided to vibrate then, prompting him to reach into his pocket and pull it out, reading over what Barton had to say. According to his text, he had had to tell his ‘date’ that he was dating another male and she had freaked out, trying to hit him before calling Tony as he had left.

 

It looked as if they were going to have some explaining to do since he had stated that he was dating Coulson. Sighing, the handler tucked his phone and raised an eyebrow at the pissy look on Miranda’s face as she glared at him, hazel eyes narrowed and arms crossed.

 

“You keep looking at that damn phone like it’s more interesting than me,” Miranda growled, Coulson just giving her a cool look before shrugging one shoulder.

 

“It quite frankly is. To be truthful, Stark set this up that I couldn’t get out of the date with you without insulting him in some way. And quite frankly, I don’t like insulting Stark like that. Yes, I’ll insult him in some other way, but that is my prerogative as the Avenger’s handler,” Coulson stated, smoothing down the lapel of his tuxedo. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going home to my boyfriend, a hot shower and great sex. Possibly a pouty Tony as to why we didn’t tell him that we were dating,” he continued, smirking as he left her standing there. She gave a wordless screech of displeasure and slammed into her house, probably going to call Tony and bitch at him.

 

Shaking his head, Coulson drove home and headed up to the apartment, wanting a shower and nothing more. Once he was in the apartment, he smiled at his lover and pulled him close, the two sharing a slow kiss and wrapping each other up in their arms. “Damn, the date was a disaster,” Barton groaned, hanging onto his lover tightly as he shuddered.

 

“What happened? You didn’t exactly give me all of the details,” Coulson chuckled, tugging off his jacket and tie before pulling Barton to their couch and sprawling out on it with the archer against him.

 

“She was very…insistent that I call her Coco even though her name is actually Tiffany. Apparently her mother is a big fan of the Tiffany Jewelry and named her kids after some of the lines that come from then. Not only that, but she was very touchy all through the day. It was like she was trying to call into my tux,” Barton moaned, using his lover as a body pillow. He had discarded his own jacket, tie and shoes earlier, leaving him in a partially unbuttoned shirt and pants.

 

“I know that feeling. I went with a woman named Miranda, who apparently owns a series of jewelry shops scattered around the country. I have learned more about her than I care to know,” Coulson snorted, the two trading information about what they learned about their dates as they waited for Tony to arrive, if not the rest of the Avengers to get there.

 

They had known that eventually it would come out but for the moment they could care less about how it was happening as long as they didn’t have to worry about Tony or anyone else setting up another date on them again. They didn’t have to wait for long for the Avengers to arrive, the group knocking on the door before letting themselves in with wide eyes. Except Natasha.

 

She was just smirking wildly at them. Which made the two men share looks, knowing that she did know about them but hadn’t said anything about it before the two men were ready for them to know.

 

“So, I just got calls from not only Coco, but Miranda to about how you’re both…gay?” Tony asked, voice sounding surprised as he walked into the living room, finding the two laid out on their couch and giving him bored looks.

 

“That’s because we are gay. For each other at least,” Coulson stated before returning to the TV that he was watching, something or another about Ghosts playing on the screen and amusing them to no end. “We’ve been together for a while now if you must know. We just never told anyone.”

 

Barton looked up from his spot with a smirk on his lips as he gazed at the others. He watched as Bruce blinked rapidly as his mind tried to compute just what he had learned and Steve was just staring at them in shock. Tony had gone still while Natasha joined them in watching the show.

 

“I knew about it,” she said, almost as if it was just a quick thought that she had before continuing to watch the show. Steve, Tony and Bruce swung their eyes to her, blinking several times and wondering if they had missed something before deciding that Coulson and Barton were just that good at hiding and lying when they wanted to do so.


	36. Fix Him 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 36  
> Character: Phil, Clint, Some Fury  
> Word count: 1,289  
> AN: Aww, poor boys. :P
> 
> To have your boss walk in on you must be embarrassing. 
> 
> *~*~*~*

“I am going to kill someone, slowly. I just know it.” Phil looked up from his paperwork as his lover dropped down from the vents before he made sure that the doors were locked. Assured that they wouldn’t be bothered unless someone overrode the codes to the doors, Clint moved to the couch and flopped down onto it with a groan, rubbing his hand over his head, closing his eyes.

 

Phil watched as the archer stretched his legs out and crossed them at his ankles with a groan, rubbing at his face. “What is going on this time?” he asked, blinking at his lover before standing up at the groan. He made a hot coffee and pulled out a bottle of Irish Crème, pouring a good amount of it into the cup before pouring the coffee into it. He handed the drink over to his lover and watched as the other man stirred it a bit before draining a good amount of it.

 

“Today was just a bad day. My mission was going to hell from day one but today just sucked something big,” Clint groaned, deciding that he needed to just sip at his coffee once he tasted the Irish Crème in it. “The rest of the mission went from bad to worse and really fast to boot. I’m lucky that all I ended up with a damnable bruise on my leg from the last minute escape from the idiots trying to kill me. Though the cleanup crew gave me some seriously dark glares for daring to make such a mess,” he grumped, Phil smiling slightly at his lover’s complaining.

 

It wasn’t often the man really let loose but he had a feeling the mission that he had just come home from hadn’t been fully detailed much less with all of the information that they needed. It wasn’t so uncommon to be surprising to Phil since he knew well enough that sometimes the information just wasn’t available to find in any form. He sighed and sat next to his lover and felt the man press close.

 

“Lose anyone?” he asked, sliding one arm around the strong shoulders, stroking his shoulder at the nod.

 

“Yeah, my hacker and my field bow creator,” Clint sighed, nuzzling up to the other with a sigh, Phil stroking a hand down his back with one hand. “I’ll be fine, really. We were able to gather the bodies and we’re sending them to their home according to what they had in their wills.”

 

Phil nodded his head and brushed his lips against the others' head, lacing their fingers together with a small smile to his lips. He shifted and thought about doing something that his lover had been bugging him to do since they got together, but had never done so because of the fact that he didn’t want anyone to see them. Smirking, he tipped Clint’s head up from on his shoulder and brought their lips together, just brushing them together and drawing his lover closer.

 

Clint hummed lowly and allowed the other to set the pace, feeling the comfort that his lover was offering him, opening his mouth to allow the lapping tongue to slide in, sucking on it with a moan. Phil chuckled and shifted them so that he could draw the other closer, into his lap, stroking his hands up and down the others back, hands sliding under his shirt with a hum. Shifting slightly, he purred and pulled away from the slow, long kiss, removing his lover’s shirt and tossing it to the side, allowing him to get at the slightly scarred skin that shifted over strong muscles. Smirking, he laid his lover down and brushed his lips against Clint’s lips, biting at them lightly before sucking on his bottom lip.

 

Settling Clint back, he settled between his partners legs and pulled away from the tempting mouth, moving down over the strong jaw and neck, pulling up new marks and soothing his lover into enjoying his touch. Finding one of the spots that he knew always made his lover go limp, he teased it and smirked at the low, husky moan as the strong body went limp under him. Chuckling softly, he continued to find all the spots that drove his lover crazy, finding a few new ones and a new wound that looked as if it came from a bullet that had grazed him.

 

He brushed his lips against the butterfly’s holding the wound, feeling Clint shudder under him and making him smirk lightly up at his lover before moving down the lean torso, teasing the nipples he came across into hard little buds. His partner pressed up into his mouth as his fingers trailed down before his trailing mouth, finding the hot spots and teasing them with fingers before doing so with mouth. Phil basked in the groans and sighs of his partner as he moved lower, fingers working on the button of Clint’s pants, lowering the zipper once he got the button free.

 

Glancing up with a smirk, he tugged the pants down enough to free the hard cock that he would be tasting in just a few moments, curling his fingers around the long length and stroking very slowly over it. Clint moaned and rocked his hips up into the touch, eyes flashing open as he stared at the ceiling, shivering hard under the missed touch of his lover.

 

“Ah, you missed me, didn’t you?” Phil chuckled lowly, smirking at Clint as he stroked his fingers up the length, teasing the tip, before sliding his hand back down to the base, squeezing it. He continued to stroke and slid his hand up and down, the other hand reaching down to grab the bottle of lube that he knew his lover had stashed there for when he had finally convinced him to give in and have office sex. Grabbing the bottle, he tugged the pants down off of the other man, letting go of the leaking cock in his hand to get them off of his lover. He shook the bottle before slicking his fingers with some of the lube and reached down to tease the tight entrance that he was going to enjoy taking once more.

 

Clint groaned and spread his legs open a bit more, offering himself as he reached down to thread his fingers into soft hair and tugged at it. Phil chuckled lowly and pressed a kiss to one hip as his hand curled around the hard length once more, stroking as he teased the hole, sliding a finger into the tight muscles. They both moaned, Clint growling at the stretch, and Phil at the tug to his hair and the tightness squeezing his finger.

 

Working his finger in and out of the tightness, he worked a second finger in while he teased the tip of the hard length before him with his lips, opening his mouth and drawing Clint in. He teased the length with slow suction and long licks as he worked the fingers in and out before he introduced another finger, neither of them hearing the door chime as it was unlocked by another source than them or Jarvis.

 

Phil was pulling off and sliding up Clint’s body when they both jerked and turned at the sound of a disgusted growl from the door way, Fury standing there in shock as he eyed the two men on the couch. The handler cleared his throat and subtly shifted so that his partner was covered while pulling his fingers free from the grasping body. He cleared his throat once more and reached down for the others' shirt and pulled it between them.

 

“Director,” he squeaked.


	37. Fix Him 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 37  
> Character: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 1,253  
> AN: Seriously, I need get back onto a normal schedule. Seriously. *sighs*
> 
> *~*~*~*

Once dressed, and the two men had sorted out their clothing, Clint had taken to the vents to get back home while Fury and Phil had taken seats opposite each other, the handler behind his desk while his boss sat in the chair that was strictly for guests and appointments.

 

“So,” Fury started, clearing his throat as Phil schooled his looks into a blank expression, hands clasped before him as he stared at the other man. He was valiantly fighting off a blush that he could feel slowly heating up his face.

 

“Sir,” Phil said, nodding his head with a frown on his lips, still trying to fight off his blush. “I thought that there was a note on my page that stated that if you were to come into my office that you would need to call me before you actually come in. Or if anything, call Jarvis and he will tell us what is going on,” he stated, swallowing again.

 

Fury cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Yes, your file does state that,” he stated, nodding his head and clearly looking embarrassed. “Forgive me for barging in. I wanted to come around to speak with Barton about a few things on his report, including the funerals that are being held for those who he lost.”

 

“As you saw, he left. I highly doubt that you’re going to see him face to face for a while. And when you do, I highly doubt that you’ll get him to actually look at you for a while on top of that,” Phil said, blushing lightly as he lost his fight with it, clearing his throat again. “Sir, I think I will be leaving now since I have to hunt down my partner and calm him down,” he continued, standing up with a strained smile on his lips. “I will talk with him and then I will send you an e-mail about what he says about attending the funerals.”

 

“Thank you, Agent Coulson,” Fury replied, the two men shaking hands. Coulson waited until Jarvis chimed in and said that the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had left the building before groaning and flopping back into his seat with a shiver. He wondered just how traumatized he had been from Fury walking in on them about to make love before he wondered how traumatized his director was instead. Shaking his head, he groaned.

 

“Fuck me and the director, how traumatized was Clint being seen in such a position?” he asked himself, running a hand through his hair with a groan before gathering his things. Shoving the papers into his briefcase, he nabbed his pass and headed out of the office, closing and locking his office door behind him. Heading to the elevator, he swiped his card and headed up towards his and Clint’s apartment.

 

Stepping in and making sure that even the overrides wouldn’t get past the lock with Jarvis’ help, he headed for the kitchen, finding his lover there already, apparently making something or another that included cream and dough. It looked like a really rich chicken pot pie, if the chicken and vegetables that were being worked on was any indication. Pulling out one of the more indulgent instant coffees, he found some cream and proceeded to make two cups of it for them, taking the time to actually slowly heat the cream.

 

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as Clint wielded his knife with perfect precision.

 

“Not particularly,” Clint grunted as he used the knife to slice around the chicken’s wing joint before breaking the two bones apart with a snap. He hummed when his lover offered him one of the cups, putting the knife down and pulling off the gloves that he was wearing, tossing them into the trash before taking his cup with a slight smile at Phil. “Let’s just say that I have blue balls like no one’s business on top of our boss walking in on us while you had your fingers in my ass.”

 

“Well, yeah, when you put it that way,” Phil chuckled, clearing his throat and once more blushing. Shaking his head, he sipped at his cup and watched as his partner once more pulled on some gloves and went back to pulling the chicken apart. He watched as Clint put the pieces into a crock pot along with some water and set it to boil for the moment as he once more pulled off the used gloves.

 

While Clint made a rue, Phil continued to watch his lover, seeing the unspent hurt and pain of losing his partners to something that probably could have been prevented with just a bit more information. Sighing softly, he stirred his coffee with his spoon, tasting the rich flavor that was added by the real milk and enjoying it. Finally, Clint had a gravy and was putting it away, allowing the handler to pull his lover away from the kitchen and into the living room.

 

Forcing him to sit, Phil took up a spot next to the archer and pressed their sides together with a comforting look on his face. “Fury actually had come to us to talk about the funerals for those who you lost during the last mission you guys went on,” he said, running his fingers through his hair, just gently playing with it as he waited for Clint to make up his mind on what he wanted to say.

 

“I want to go to them but I’m not sure as to how welcomed I’ll be considering I was heading that mission instead of our handler since the guy was stuck on the helicarrier,” Clint sighed slowly, shaking his head.

 

“I think that the families actually have invited you themselves to come. Otherwise Fury wouldn’t have come to talk with you and interrupted us in the middle of our office sex,” Phil told him, tugging on a piece of hair with a chuckle. “I’m sure that you’d be welcomed to say your goodbyes,” he said, reaching down to the grab his pad and pulled up the information that Fury was bound to have sent him. “Yeah, see? The parents and the spouses want you there, to thank you for keeping them as safe as you did. Apparently you’re also wanted at the will reading, so you’ll need to attend that to.”

 

“Well, at least they do want me there,” Clint sighed softly, shaking his head and smiling softly at his lover, one hand coming to rest on his leg as he leant into the other man. “Will you be able to come with me?” he asked, tilting his head to the side in curiosity.

 

Phil sighed before chuckling lowly and smiling, nodding his head with a fond look at the man. “Of course I’m going to come with you. We didn’t really talk all that much, but we were partners on the same team. It’s only right to pay my respects to a fellow worker,” he stated, nuzzling into the other’s head, feeling Clint go limp against him with a sigh of pleasure. “For now though, how about I help you relax and forget about things for a bit more time? At least while the chicken boils away for those oh so lovely pot pies that you seem intent on making,” he suggested, getting a groan and dragged up from the couch by an eager archer. “I’ll take that as a yes.”


	38. Fix Him 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 38  
> Character: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 1,631  
> AN: I have reasons why I was late in posting this. I was researching for something that I'm a part of and working on my speech. Blah. 
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Stretching his arms up over his head with a groan of pleasure, Clint watched the numbers on the elevator go from the very top to the floor with his shared apartment. Humming lowly, he tapped his fingers on the pole that wrapped around the walls of the elevator and smiled slightly. He had just gotten done with a simple watch mission, debriefing with S.H.I.E.L.D. before he had hitched a ride down to the Avengers tower to head home to his lover.

 

He sighed as he pouted at the fact that he wasn’t with Phil as his handler more often but ever since the man had almost been killed by Loki he hadn’t been able to be Clint’s handler outside of a few high priority missions. He didn’t mind so much now since he knew his lover tended to know when he was coming home somehow but he still missed the other man way too much while he was gone.

 

Clint hummed softly himself as the door pinged open and he stepped out, heading for the doorway of the apartment, finding it open and waiting for him. A plate of food sat on the table next to where he usually placed his bows and quiver to go over later after he had relaxed, along with a note telling him to eat it. He raised an eyebrow at the fact that the note told him that he would need it soon enough. He put the bow and quiver case down before stripping off his bracers, laying them on top of the case.

 

Smirking, he ate the quick and easy chicken strips and soft rolls before washing the plate and his hands. Once that was done, Clint tilted his head at the sound of something happening in Phil’s room and headed that way, smiling at the fact that his lover was sprawled out on their bed. A series of pictures flashed across the TV screen, most of them from various times that they were together or alone, some of them when they had decided to play for a camera.

 

“Been waiting for me?” Clint asked as he unzipped his uniform top and pulled it off, tossing it to the chair to the side. Phil was smirking at him, his sweat pants doing nothing to hide the fact that he was hard and waiting for his lover to join him.

 

“What do you think? I knew the moment you were coming down in the elevator,” Phil chuckled, putting his hands behind his head, Clint admiring the man. He wasn't traditionally handsome but he was still good looking all things considered, and ever since he started working out more with the rest of them, he was looking even better. Smooth skin with it’s own fair share of scars shifted with the lean muscles that were under it while strong shoulders called to be marked and teased again.

 

But Clint’s main focus was on the hardness that he knew was just waiting for him to taste again. He had never really had an oral fixation until he had started to sleep with Phil, but then he had discovered just how fun it was to tease his partner into a mess of begging and demands with one’s mouth. Smirking as he shed his pants and boots with only a few hops as he pulled them off, he crawled onto the bed, Phil watching him carefully.

 

Chuckling, he reached out and pulled the other man’s pants down and off, tossing them over his shoulder before sliding his hands up the strong legs. Phil simply shifted and spread them a bit so that he had easier access to what he was after. Lowering his head, he pressed a kiss to the taut stomach with a sigh of pleasure before brushing his lips, feeling the slight hair there. He teased the dark hair for a few minutes, using his fingers to tease as his lips teased against the skin. His lover just rumbled and watched him, knowing that the archer needed the bonding and the touching to calm down.

 

Humming, Clint sent a wicked smile up to his lover and used one hand to shift the prick before him, teasing the tip before his mouth wrapped around the head. His tongue prodded at it as he idly played with the rest of the length with his hand, watching Phil close his eyes and just enjoy, small thrusts of his hips all the telling that the archer needed. Chuckling, the vibrations drawing a low groan from his lover, he worked his mouth over the top half, teasing it with his tongue as his hands worked to tease the rest of what he wasn’t working with his mouth.

 

Shifting so that he could slide further down, the archer watched as best as he could, one hand reaching out to find the bottle of lube that he knew was running around somewhere. Finding it, he shook it and slicked his fingers, noting that it was the better tasting lubes just in case he got some near his mouth. Smiling at his lover’s thoughtfulness, he warmed the slick up by rubbing his fingers together before cupping the heavy balls. He stroked and pulled at them as he bobbed up and down over the length, noting that Phil’s arms were bulging, telling him that he was clasping his hands tightly to stop from moving.

 

Pulling up, Clint sucked hard at the tip as his slicked hand moved down to tease his lover’s hole, knowing that Phil wouldn’t mind bottoming that night. It wasn’t often that they switched positions, the handler’s OCD making it hard for him to allow another to take him and the archer enjoying not having the power for once, but sometimes they needed something new and different. And that’s when Clint topped while Phil bottomed.

 

Moaning when his finger was enveloped by strangling heat, Clint sucked hard on his treat and worked the muscles open, his lover shifting to grab onto the specially enforced headboard and cling to it as he growled and moaned. Sliding a second finger followed by a third finger into the sucking, grasping entrance, the archer moaned and made sure that Phil was well and truly opened for him, not wanting anything between him and his mate. Pulling off, he hunted for a condom, getting a cocked eyebrow from his lover, making him blink down at him.

 

“You sure?” he asked, voice husky and deep from his need. Phil chuckled and uncapped the bottle of lube, reaching down to stroke over Clint’s cock, coating it fully.

 

“I may find the after care time consuming but, as you say, it is worth it occasionally. I made sure that I cleaned fully before you came,” Phil stated, eyes challenging, the look getting a growl as Clint pushed him back to seal their lips together in a deep kiss. Reaching between them, he checked the looseness once more before pressing the tip of his cock at the hole and pressed forward, drawing a low moan from the both of them.

 

Pausing in his movements once he had bottom out, Clint pulled away from the kiss and the two panted together, staring and waiting for the right moment. Smirking, the archer slowly pulled out, moaning at the slick slide of skin on skin, before sliding back in, creating a slow pace meant to draw it out for them as Phil wrapped his legs around his waist. He rocked and moved, the two exchanging slow, loving kisses as their hands came into play finally, stroking and teasing over soft skin and strong muscles.

 

Phil groaned as he arched his body up into his lover’s stronger body, legs tightening around the lean waist, drawing him closer. Clint chuckled and teased the prick between them with a stroke in the same pace as his thrusts, falling into rhythm once more. His lover was moving and arching, pressing up and taking it all that his archer was giving him. When the handler finally fell over that edge it was with a groan and a shudder of pleasure, eyes falling shut as his toes curled.

 

Clint groaned with, eyes tightly closed as he was squeezed and caressed, dragging him over into his own climax, spilling into his lover. He groaned and rocked for a few moments, drawing out their ends as long as he could before pulling out with a hiss at the sensitivity that they were feeling. Flopping to the side, he pressed against Phil and sighed as one arm came up to rest around his shoulders, a hand stroking down one arm.

 

“I missed you,” Clint hummed finally, smiling as his lover squeezed him around the shoulders with a chuckle.

 

“I missed you to. Our bed is cold the apartment is much too quiet without you,” Phil said, something that he often said when it came to being without his lover for long periods of time. “I think we’ll have to ask if you can get some training time with the Avengers. Everyone will be here this month and you guys can use some team building.”

 

Clint yawned and pulled himself up off the bed, Phil following after, the both of them wanting to get clean before going to bed. “Sounds like a good idea. I could use some time off. I also promised Loanoria that I would visit her and the kids since I helped to set her up with Pepper as her new receptionist,” he admitted, stretching.

 

“I am still sorry that she has to raise those kids on her own but I’m glad you helped her,” Phil hummed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder with a smile before leading his lover into the bathroom to wash.


	39. Fix Him 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 39  
> Character: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 1,441   
> AN: Look! A chapter that is on time. :P Enjoy all. 
> 
> *~*~*~*

Picking up a large turkey, Phil checked the weight and price before adding it to the cart that Thor was confusedly pushing for him while Natasha debated stuffing with Pepper and Bruce found vegetables for Thanksgiving dinner. “Why do we not slaughter our own fowls? Why must we buy them frozen and hard?” the God of Thunder asked, brow furrowed.

 

Phil chuckled and picked up another large turkey, adding it to the cart. “Because unless you’re raising several turkeys, plucking and gutting and then prepping them for us, we are going to buy the damn things,” he stated, finding one last bird before leading Thor away from the frozen turkeys and heading for the canned foods, knowing that he would need cans of cranberry sauce. “Just remember to let Natasha and Pepper do the cooking yes? We don’t need what happened at the Easter dinner to happen again.”

 

“I did not mean to burn the shanks of pig meat,” Thor complained, getting snorted at.

 

“You were told to let the meat cook at 300 degrees or less. You cooked them at 350 instead,” Phil scolded, getting a sheepish look from the large man. “Are you bringing anyone to the dinner?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and changing the subject.

 

“No, I am not. Jane has not wanted to come to any Avenger’s nights, much less celebrations,” Thor stated, frowning heavily and shaking his head as Phil hummed and compared prices between the two cans of cranberry jelly’s that he knew was good. Humming softly, he dropped one of the cans into the shopping cart before grabbing three more and adding them to what they had so far. He watched Natasha and Pepper walk past them with their own list, heading for the frozen section by the looks of it while Bruce and Tony walked behind them, walking down the same aisle that Thor and Phil were down, heading for the sauces.

 

“Come on. We need to go rescue the poor helper from Barton and the alcohol aisle before he buys out the store,” he chuckled softly, shaking his head with a smile on his lips.

 

“Will there be much ale?” Thor asked curiously, following after his friend, only getting a chuckle from him before shrugging his shoulders.

 

Phil looked over at Thor before stopping and grabbing a couple bags of flour and yeast from an end display, wanting to make the rolls for the dinner himself, even though he and Clint weren’t going to be there. They had plans to go see Phil’s family, a long standing tradition of his family gathering together every major holiday if they could at his grandparents, now his parents, farm.

 

And this year he had someone to bring with him.

 

“Clint, did you get the ale?” Thor asked as they walked up to the archer and the store helper that was helping pushing the three carts that was full of sodas and alcohol.

 

“I did,” Clint replied, pulling down a few bottles of wine that was on his list, knowing that Pepper and Natasha would gut him if he didn’t. “So, are we almost done?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as the others started to appear near them with their own full baskets. Tony was pushing one filled with the vegetables and fruits along with a few other extras for his own apartment with Pepper while Bruce followed. Natasha and Pepper were laughing and giggling together as they came up with everything else that was needed in two carts.

 

“We have our stuff,” Phil stated, everyone else agreeing with them. “Wonderful. Pepper, you have the cards I believe?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the pretty woman, getting a chuckle from her. Everyone had chipped in to a general fund every time they got paid for not only their movie nights but for the special parties that included birthdays and holidays that were celebrated.

 

Tony’s accountants had created it and watched over it to make sure that taxes were paid on them yearly. What the man wasn’t saying though, was that he covered the taxes himself and just shrugged it off as not wanting to stress the account to much when Pepper had discovered what he was doing.

 

“I do,” Pepper replied, pulling out the cards and handing them over with a smile. “We’ll meet at the cars in 20?” she asked, getting nods before the group headed to the checkout lines.

 

“That sounds fine,” Phil replied, nodding his head and dragging Thor towards his own line, Clint and the store worker following after them.

 

“Clint, tell me, what are you going to do for the Thanksgiving dinner?” Thor asked as he hauled the turkey’s out with ease and placed them on the conveyor belt.

 

“I’m not going to be there,” Clint replied, helping Phil with the smaller things in his cart. “I have

people I need to go see that day,” he continued, explaining himself at the curious look on his face. “I’ll be baking a few pies and the such beforehand though so you guys have them.”

 

“I see,” Thor replied, eyebrows drawing together as he placed a separator down onto the belt and moved to help place the turkeys into the basket once they had been scanned. Phil and Clint started to place the bottles and boxes of alcohol onto the conveyor belt with a shared look. “Are you going to be there, Phil?” he asked, turning to the handler with a curious look.

 

Phil shook his head with a smile. “No, not really. I’m making the bread the day before though seeing as the girls will be doing the rest of the cooking,” he said, paying for the first round of groceries and letting Clint pay for the booze, including the booze that was being delivered to them at the tower. “I have previous plans to. Got a lot to do Thanksgiving,” he continued, helping to push the carts out to the cars and loading up the van that he and Clint had taken to the shopping center.

 

“My friends, did you know that Phil and Clint will not be coming to our Thanksgiving dinner?” Thor asked as the others worked to load the vans with the bought groceries.

 

“I didn’t know that,” Pepper replied, frowning at her friend and tilting her head. “Where are you guys going?”

 

“I have places to visit and people to bother,” Clint drawled, sliding around the question as he placed the bottles of alcohol into boxes with the bubble wrap just in case.

 

“Pre-planned plans,” Phil stated. That was all he said as he placed turkeys into the back with a shrug. “I can’t wiggle out of it but I’ll be here for Christmas.”

 

“Same here,” Clint stated, standing up and handing the cart over to the store worker.

 

“Ahh, that’s not so nice to tease us with what you’re going to do,” Tony stated as he slid on his glasses, Bruce rolling his eyes and closing the trunk of the car that he had come in with Tony.

 

“If they don’t come, they don’t come,” he said, shaking his head. “It does happen unfortunately so we just need to plan around the fact that these two aren’t coming.” With that said, Bruce dragged Tony to the driver’s side of the car and pointed at it with a raised eyebrow. “Drive. We have stuff that needs to go into the refrigerator.”

 

“Fine, fine,” Tony huffed, sliding in as Bruce walked around to the other side. Natasha smirked and got into the other van with Pepper and a pouting Steve, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to save his sanity the coming holiday with the rest of the Avengers. Natasha liked to prod the insanity, Pepper would hide in the kitchen more often than not, Tony would snark them all to death, Thor would get drunk and regale them of tales from a time when Loki had actually been his brother, and Bruce would hide behind whatever electronic item he was using to read the news on.

 

He whimpered as he slouched in his seat, Pepper reaching over and patting his hand in amusement. She knew that Tony wouldn’t be letting those two get away with their excuses and had a feeling that they would have to donate the turkeys to a food kitchen.

 

She was proven true when Tony locked himself away with Jarvis and a computer that he had specially designed to let him into any kind of database out there. 


	40. Fix Him 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 40  
> Character: Avengers, Coulson family  
> Word count: 1,791  
> AN: Look! A chapter that is on time. :P Enjoy all. 
> 
> *~*~*~*

It was amusing to Phil as he watched his lover stare wide eyed at the kids that were currently running around out in the backyard as the parents watched with indulgent looks and ice cold drinks in hand. Clint turned to him and glared, sipping some of the ice sweet tea in his own hand.

 

“ You could have told me to dress for warm weather,” he grumped, getting a low chuckle from his partner.

 

“ I told you to dress for Arizona weather,” Phil teased, poking his lover in the side with a chuckle. Clint scowled and rolled his sleeves up his arm with a huff. “How long do you think we’ll have before we have visitors?” he asked as he poured some of his own iced tea, eyes watching his mother flit around and make sure that everyone was well fed, his father watching the TV in the living room. They could hear the sounds of football fans going crazy over one play or another.

 

Phil and Clint really couldn’t care at the moment seeing as there was a pack of adorable kids running around dressed like the Avengers. There was a little Hawkeye teaming up with a little Hulk against Captain America, Black Widow and Ironman. The little Thor was currently sitting near his mother and drinking down some water while she applied some more sunscreen.

 

“ I have a feeling they’re going to drop in here soon,” Clint snorted as his tiny doppelganger rushed past, waving his bow in one hand and a soft arrow in the other, getting chased by the tiny Hulk dressed all in green. “That…is so cute it makes my teeth ache. Why didn’t you warn me that your family was filled with cuteness?” he asked, scowling playfully at his lover.

 

Phil just chuckled and shrugged. “I know, I don’t look that cute do I?” he asked, eyes glowing in amusement. “But my family makes some adorable looking kids,” he said, shrugging one shoulder with a smile. “I’m just glad that we were able to warn the family that we might have some more company here soon.”

 

Clint snorted and nodded his head. “I’m just glad that they haven’t let out that the rest of the group is coming so far,” he drawled, getting an amused look from his lover. “We’d have screaming children wondering when they’d get here.”

 

“ Oh, I don’t know, the tiny Nat is adorable really,” Phil drawled, shrugging one shoulder with a smile. “She’s a natural red head to boot,” he shared, pointing to the red headed mother who was putting on some fresh sun tan lotion onto said child’s face. “She’s adorable really but a bit wild.”

 

“ Think she’ll end up following you?” Clint asked, raising an eyebrow at his lover.

 

“ Yep. She loves the fact that I’m such an interesting uncle to her and that I work with the Avengers,” he chuckled, shaking his head with a snort. “She wants to train to get the bad guys and work with the next Avengers,” Phil said, shaking his head at the cuteness of his cousin's kid. “She's adorable and she'll make a great agent when the time comes I think.”

 

“ I bet you don't want her to be a field agent,” Clint drawled, snickering at the dull look from his lover. “I thought so,” he snickered softly, shaking his head.

 

“ Shut up. She's a princess, all things considered, but she's a tough little princess.” Phil smiled and reached over, brushing his fingers against his partner's shoulder, eyes glowing with his love. Clint's lips twitched as he pressed into the touch, shaking his head. “She'll make a great agent if she does go through with it, or even in the medical fields.”

 

Clint chuckled as the door bell rang, the sound playing over the sounds of the family gathering. “They're here,” he purred, leaning over and kissing his lover's cheek before standing up and moving to save the poor hapless fool who answered that door. Who happened to be Phil's mother who was looking at the smiling Thor, who stood in the door with a large cooked turkey in a pan, ready to finish cooking and looking a bit browned. “Thor, how did we know you were coming?”

 

Thor beamed at him and held out the turkey. “Natasha has told me that the bird is to continue cooking for another two hours,” he greeted, Coulson's mother chuckling softly as she took the pan.

 

“ Go help the others in and Clint here will show you where you can get some snacks,” she chirped, heading into the kitchen.

 

“ Phil's mom, Maria. Nice woman but wields a mean wooden spoon,” Clint chuckled, opening the door fully and pulling open the second door with a bit of finessing. He and Phil were going to help Phil’s father with getting that fixed, but for the moment, it tended to stick when someone tried to open it up. “Come on in, you guys. I’ll show you where you can stick the food and let the women take over.” He held up a hand. “The men in this family outside of Phil can’t cook to save their lives. The women do the cooking while the men bar-b-que,” he stated.

 

“ I see,” Natasha chuckled as she walked up with a large pan full of stuffing. “So, how did Phil learn to cook as well as he did?”

 

“ Mother,” Phil drawled, walking out of the front, the little Natasha in his arms, rubbing at her eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Natasha, I want to introduce you to your biggest fan, my little cousin, Naline,” he chuckled, joggling the little girl in his arms. Naline blushed and hid her face into his shoulder before looking up from his shoulder with a shy smile. “Naline, this is Natasha. She won’t bite,” he cooed.

 

Pepper and Natasha had to smile at the cute sight of Phil smiling sweetly down at his younger cousin, playing much like a proud uncle instead of cousin. The assassin cooed softly and reached out, tucking a bit of bright red hair back out of the way, getting another shy smile.

 

“ You are so cute and you’re going to be such a heartbreaker when you grow up,” Natasha cooed, getting light chuckles from everyone. “Come on, you have to admit that her little outfit is cute and rather dead on in details,” she said, chuckled, tugging at it with a smile. Naline smiled brightly and bounced in her cousin’s arms.

 

“ Mommy made it for me,” Naline chirped, Natasha shoving the giant dish into Thor’s hand before stealing her with a coo and walking into the house with her.

 

“ Looks like your cousin has been stolen away,” Clint drawled, heading to the stuffed back end of the van that Tony was standing next to with Bruce near by. Pepper snickered and hugged Phil, getting one back before she moved to save the yams from her lover with an amused look.

 

“ Come on, you guys, let’s get inside so we can introduce ourselves,” Pepper commanded, handing Tony the bags stuffed full of fresh made rolls that wafted with the scent of honey. “I want to talk with Maria about her recipes that she handed over to her child so I can maybe snag some finally,” she drawled, heading into the house with the foil bread pans full of yams, grocery bag with marshmallows carried in one hand.

 

“ You’ve heard the lady, let’s head in,” Tony chuckled, following after his lover, smirking at Phil, getting a dry look at him in return. The group followed after, emptying the back of the van with amused looks on their faces, and settling into the party once more. 

 

Tony charmed the women with his easy charm and obvious love for his girlfriend, Pepper, and science crush for Bruce. Bruce made all of the females happy, from the tiniest baby when she crawled to him and demanded to be picked up, up to the grandmothers of the family who wanted to adopt them for their own. Thor celebrated with the men and told stories of his battles with the war veterans that littered the family. Steve flitted back and forth between the veterans that he could remember seeing as very young men and the women who were so happy to have a ‘fine young man with good morals’ helping them.

 

Natasha spent time with a few of the older kids talking with their parents about self defense classes and what would be expected from them. She was well liked by everyone who she talked with and made some new friends who worked for other agencies. Pepper spent a good amount of her time learning new recipes to practice later from Maria and Phil’s grandmother.

 

Their tiny doppelgangers followed around their idols, Pepper finding herself with an adorable little brunet who wanted to be just like her. Pepper had promised that if he wanted to be a CEO someday, he would have to get good grades and work hard at getting the proper degrees. And she had also promised him that when he graduated high school, he would have a job as an assistant to her to help him in the long run. Phil had promised to take him to see what she did for his birthday.

 

That night, after the food had been eaten, and the family had gone to their various hotel rooms, or in some cases, the floor to the family home, Phil was smiling at his lover as he dried off his hair. “That wasn’t so bad, I suppose,” he chuckled, Clint giving him a bemused look.

 

“ No, it wasn’t,” Clint said as he sat down next to him, leaning over and giving him a kiss. “And you have a bunch of future agents and scientists and business men.”

 

“ And heros and scholars and doctors and nurses,” Phil snorted, sitting back on the bed and allowing Clint to drape over him with a purr. “It was cute that Steve charmed the older women, especially my grandmother,” he hummed.

 

“ They were around when he was, as old as he is. They were probably young women, barely in their teens, but they remember that world war,” Clint hummed, Phil nodding his head with a sigh.

 

“Yeah. I’m just glad he was able to see a couple of the guys who he helped or worked with,” Phil said, the two laying down to get some more rest before the next day. They had a long day the next day, a smaller, more intimate dinner happening with just Phil’s parents and the group.

 


	41. Fix Him 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 41  
> Character: Phil, Clint  
> Word count: 959  
> AN: Late, I know. I'm just tired today. *yawns cutely* 
> 
> *~*~*~*

 

“Come on, lover boy, you know you want one,” Clint wheedled, holding up a small dog. He knew that they wouldn’t be able to have anything bigger then say a Chihuahua or a terrier since they lived in an apartment, but still. He wanted a puppy and the humane society was holding an adoption drive. He had always wanted a dog but had never gotten one due to the fact that he had always been on the move.

 

But now, he had a lover. He had a home that he came back to every night, at least when he wasn’t on a long mission. And he had the time to spend with both lover and dog now. So Clint was going to convince Phil that getting a puppy was a good idea, starting with the little ball with stubs for legs puppy in his hand.

 

He was a solid black but they had been told that it was most likely that he would gain other colors later since he was only a month old. He whimpered and his little tail wagged happily as the little ball of fluff tried to lick at Phil. Phil just gave him an odd look and took the puppy, scratching it behind his ears and getting a happy, tiny whine.

 

“What is he?” Phil asked, eyeing the small dog in his arms. “He looks like a ball with stubs for legs.”

 

“He is, since he’s currently only a month old at the moment,” Clint chuckled, looking at the little clip board that hung from the cage. “He has had his all needed, current shots but is due in for a few more after he’s been adopted. He does need to be fixed but they want to wait until he’s six months old so his balls have time to descend,” he read off, raising an eyebrow.

 

“What happened to his mother?” Phil asked, flipping the dog onto his back and rubbing at his stomach, getting another sound from the small puppy.

 

Clint found that note and made a small noise of sadness. “Rat poison. His sister didn’t make it either though, but that was because both of them had been abandoned by the side of the road during that one heavy rainstorm. She got sick and died about three days ago,” he said, shaking his head.

 

“Poor little guy,” Phil hummed, finding himself unwilling to let the dog go as he fell asleep in his arms. “Does he have a name yet?” he asked, getting a head shake from his lover. “Well, I suppose, since he likes me so much, we’ll have to take him home with us.”

 

Clint smiled brightly and hugged his lover close, getting a squeak from the dog between them. He knew that Phil had a hard time giving up anything up when it had a sad story behind it, just like he had with Clint and Natasha.

 

Chuckling softly, Clint went off to talk with one of the workers so that they could adopt the small puppy and get his records. They had already been cleared to adopt when they found the one that they wanted, the archer having already done the paperwork before hand. Phil chuckled softly and shook his head as he turned to look at the sleepy little puppy dog.

 

“Now, what are we to call you?” he asked, stroking behind one ear. He could already tell that the puppy was going to be oddly shaped but would still be adorable. Kind of like Clint when he wasn’t on somewhere high up and forced to be on the ground. Chuckling when all he got was a yawn in answer, he stroked over the plump little belly and looked up when his lover and the one who cared for the puppy walked up.

 

“I see you want to take our little boy home,” the man said, smiling brightly and rubbing his hands together in anticipation. They had been worried that the little boy puppy would follow after his mother and sister but it was highly likely that he would continue to live once adopted.

 

Phil smirked and nodded his head, holding his new pet in his arms. “Yes, my partner here talked me into adopting the little guy for Christmas,” he huffed, getting a low chuckle from the worker and a loving smile from his lover.

 

“Aww, you know the moment you saw the little ball of fluff that you would go for it,” Clint drawled, reaching out and scratching behind the dogs ears.

 

“It looks as if he’s bonded with you already. Come on, I have a list of things you’re going to need, a pet carrier for him and the paperwork all ready for you,” the worker said, turning around and leading the way back to his office. Once the paperwork was done, the temporary tags engraved with the now named Westerfield’s information, and the things that the puppy would need, the two headed home, Clint holding Westerfield in his arms the entire time.

 

“I can’t believe that I agreed to this adoption,” Phil grumped good naturally, shaking his head as Westerfield growled as he chewed on a toy just as big his own body in Clint’s lap.

 

“Aww, but you know that he’s adorable and just as sassy as you are,” Clint chuckled, rubbing between the tiny ears of his new pets head. He chuckled softly and picked up the little dog, hugging him close and getting a squeak.

 

“That is true,” Phil chuckled, reaching over and giving Westerfield a quick scratch before continuing to drive. “You’re luck you’re cute to.”

 

“Hey!” Phil just chuckled as Westerfield returned it with squeaky barks.


	42. Fix Him 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 42  
> Character: Avengers  
> Word count: 1,589  
> AN: Just remember that this story is fully done and written, I'm just editing and posting now. :P Enjoy all.
> 
> *~*~*~*

He was wondering why he was there when he had to do more important things the next day.

 

Sighing, Clint slowly stretched his arms in his little hidden corner before relaxing and sliding out of the corner once more, heading for the bar. He wanted to be near where his lover was holding court with several people, talking about some of the charities that the money being spent would go to. Tony had already started it off with a base start of nearly twelve thousand dollars, Bruce putting forward another two since he made so much and didn’t spend much.

 

The rest of the Avengers had put their own money forward, bringing the total start off to nearly eighteen thousand dollars and were working on getting more. They were going to donate the money to some of the rarer cancer researches, both for children and adults.

 

Clint thought it was a worthy cause and all of the people there had the money to spend, but he was finding it hard to get them to part from their money. So Phil, Tony and a few of the others were sucking up to the people and getting them to part with their money rather easily while Clint and Natasha hid out of sight. They didn’t do well in crowds after all and they were likely to shoot a person who thought themselves better than someone who needed the funding.

 

Striding up to the bar, Clint pulled out a bill and laid it down on the counter. “Can I get an ale please?” he asked, getting a nod from the bartender. Soon he had his ale bottle and change, dropping the coins into the tip jar and shoving a dollar bill into it to. Leaning against the counter, he looked around, eyes dancing over the people before stopping on a man that he knew had been invited to help explain what he was looking to research into further.

 

He was also one of the few doctors that specialized in rare cancers for children and adults, and ran the cancer hospice and treatment center that Clint would donate and offer time to during the month of December. During that month, the center would gather money for families and bills, clothes, toys and other things for the patients and hold a Christmas party for everyone there. Most of that was done with volunteers though and Clint had started going there nearly 8 years before to start helping.

 

Smiling, Clint meandered towards him, waiting until he had finished playing nice with a couple that the archer knew to own several restaurants around the world along with manufacturing companies. He knew that the other would recognize him since they did talk during the other months about plans for December.

 

Clint was proven right when Dr. Marco Ling turned around, spotting him, and smiled brightly, making his way over to him. “Clint, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he greeted, the archer shaking hands with him and chuckling softly.

 

“ It’s good to see you to, Marco. How’s everyone at the hospice and treatment center?” he asked, eyes solemn as he gazed at his friend as he thought for a moment.

 

“ We haven’t lost anyone this year, so we are thankful. We think we may have a way to fight that one bone cancer that attacks children though,” he said, smiling brightly and rubbing his hands together. “But it will cost quite a bit to get past the two patients that we have right now. We need four more patients and we have them but we need to set them up so we’re buying a large home for those families that come with our patients,” he said, Clint beaming happily.

 

“ That’s good, my friend, very good,” Clint chuckled, patting the other on the shoulder. “Which properties are you looking at right now?” he asked, tilting his head.

 

“ A few of the larger ones that are just on the edge of town but only about thirty minutes away from the hospice,” he said, nodding his head. “One is owned by your friend, Mr. Stark, and is actually just been redone as several apartments but it’s not for sale unfortunately,” Marco admitted, shaking his head with a rueful smile.

 

“ You know what, come with me, let’s talk with Tony,” Clint said, patting his friend’s arm before drawing him away from the crowd around them. Spotting Tony near the bar, he waved his bottle at the man and got a smile as they walked over to him. “Tony, I would like to introduce Doctor Marco Ling. Marco, Tony Stark, a good friend of mine.”

 

“ Hello there, Doc,” Tony greeted with the easy grace that he always possessed, shaking the other man’s hand and getting a bright smile.

 

“ Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you finally. You’ve donated in previous years, but never have I gotten lucky enough to meet you,” Marco said.

 

Tony chuckled softly. “Eh, I didn’t really know where the money went to as long as it went to worthy costs in previous years to be truthful,” he admitted. “But Pepper was really good at making sure that it went out in needed amounts and to those who needed it the most.”

 

“ Yes, the children were very happy when she was nice enough to donate quite a few toys to us last year,” Marco chuckled, making Clint smile brightly.

 

“ I wondered where those toys had come from,” he hummed, drawing Tony’s eyes to him as a dark eyebrow cocked.

 

“ You saw them?” Tony asked, getting a nod.

 

“ Yeah, I saw them. I see them every year. I volunteer at the hospice, mostly where the kids are. Every year they gather donations and gifts for the kids and families so that they have some cheer going for the month,” Clint admitted, jumping slightly when Phil put a hand on his lower back. Turning around, he had to smile at the loving smile on his lover’s face and the small puppy that was curled up in his arms.

 

“ I didn’t know that you volunteered there,” Phil chuckled, stealing a kiss from his lover and getting a low laugh from Clint.

 

“ Yeah, every year for the last eight or so,” Clint said, shaking his head. “Anyways, Tony, Marco here was looking at houses for the families that come with their kids while getting treatment and one of the houses was the one place that was rebuilt into apartments,” he said, Tony frowning heavily and looking to his hovering assistant. Since Pepper was running around doing as she often did during the charity balls, he had a different assistant.

 

“ Pad please,” he stated, holding out his hand and taking the Stark Pad from her hands. Looking at something or another, he found what he was searching for and smiled largely. “Ah, I know which one it is. I started fixing it up for some of my workers before they requested to be shifted to a different city due to family issues. How about this, doc, I can’t sell it to you but I can let you use it and three other buildings for families who need places to live without rent. They’ll have to pay for things like electricity for their apartment, phone, cable and net, but they don’t have to worry about rent. And if they need a job, I’m forever looking for someone to fill in positions,” he offered in return.

 

Marco stared at Tony with wide eyes and a working mouth before clearing his throat. “Really?” he asked, sounding breathless.

 

“ Hey, this is a huge tax break for Tony. That and he’s a softy when it comes to kids,” Clint snickered, taking his sleepy puppy from his lover.

 

“ Just say yes, Doctor Marco, and come in tomorrow to work out the details. As it is, quite a bit of the money is going to your center this year,” Phil admitted, shrugging one shoulder. “When someone donates, they can choose a charity or center that a chunk of their money goes to, and this year, your center is one of the more popular ones,” he continued, smiling and shaking Marco’s hands before leaving with his lover.

 

When they got to the bar, Clint ordered a soda for himself while Phil asked for a tumbler of whiskey. Looking at his lover, the archer shifted. “So you know my secret. I have a need to help those families that are hurting something fierce with their child or family member being so sick,” he sighed.

 

Phil just smiled and reached over, stroking his cheek with a soft look on his face. “Lover, if that’s what you do in your free time, I’m willing to help you with it,” he promised, getting a loving smile from Clint. “Tomorrow, we’ll go out and buy a bunch of clothing and toys. You have a list of what needs to be gathered?” he asked, watching green eyes widen in surprise.

 

“ You really mean it?” Clint asked, getting a nod. “Yeah, I have a list. I was going to go around to my usual places and set out the donation jars again along with getting donations from the usual people,” he said, Phil nodding his head.

 

“ We’ll take the van and do it together,” he promised. Clint sniffed softly and pulled him down for a soft, loving kiss.

 

“ Thank you, Phil.” 

 

 


	43. Fix Him 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 43  
> Character: Avengers  
> Word count: 1,587  
> AN: Christmas Fluff!!! Yes, I know, it's late. But I have a friend here and we've been nothing but BUSY for the last few days. *twitches* So very tired.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Humming softly as he nosed into soft hair, one hand laying on the little flump of fur that was their new pet, Phil smiled as he sighed softly. “Now this is a pleasant way of waking up,” he chuckled, stroking his other hand down Clint’s back, getting a sleepy murmur from the slightly younger man.

 

It was Christmas day and the two lovers had decided that staying out of the way and staying home with their new little boy all day would be a good idea. Phil had talked his family into letting him have the holiday alone with his partner, his mother pouting about the fact that they wouldn’t be there for Christmas day.

 

Westerfield was the first of them to move, yawning and stretching while still under Phil’s hand. The little ball of fluff bounced off of the older male and onto the bed before walking down the little stairs that they had bought to make it easier for him to get up onto the bed. Phil chuckled softly and stretched with a groan himself.

 

“ I suppose we need to get up ourselves,” Phil chuckled, getting a moan from his lover as he stood up. “Come on, lazy. We have a fat ham to cook and some rolls and some candied yams,” he purred, poking the other in the side.

 

Clint groaned and rolled out of the bed, eyes trailing to where they could see their pet using the potty patch in the bathroom. “Well, at least he was trained for that,” he said, heading into the bathroom himself, intent on a hot shower. Chuckling softly, Phil stretched once more, groaning when his back popped on him and moved about the bedroom, gathering up their clothes for the day.

 

Not that they would be wearing much.

 

Once they had taken their showers and gotten dressed, Westerfield having jumped into Phil’s shower in the process, they started on breakfast. Egg and sausage burritos were heated up in the microwave while the coffee percolated for them. Once breakfast had been eaten, Clint did his part of the puppy chores, removing the leavings from the pee pad and washing it out before laying it down once more.

 

He filled the food bowl and water bowl with water container while Phil hummed softly and cleaned up their breakfast mess while preparing for the cooking of their dinner. Once the puppy was taken cared of and the ham put into the oven, covered in brown sugar and pineapple slices held on with cloves, the two men settled down with their own laptops. They wanted to get their checks of their various accounts done and over with before they started on their day together.

 

Outside of Westerfield climbing up Clint’s sweat panted legs to get up to lay between them, the next couple of hours was quiet. They were waiting for the start of one of their favorite Christmas movie before they opened their presents to each other and from their friends and family. When the time came, Phil looked up from his laptop and flipped it shut with a smile on his lips.

 

“ Come on, let’s open the gifts,” he chuckled, standing up and disturbing their little pet while Clint followed after him and flopped down before the tree that stood in front of their bay windows. They hadn’t decorated anywhere, outside of the tree, since neither man had the time to deal with lights and other things. But the tree was what they had agreed on.

 

It stood nearly seven feet tall and was a nice bushy green fake tree, but still it was beautiful. Baubles hung from the branches, most of them collected by Phil over the years as a young agent, traveling around the world. But some came from his mother who had handed it over when she had discovered that her only son had finally settled down with someone.

 

Lights wrapped around the tree and sat behind the ornaments, colored lights bouncing off of the baubles and making them glow. The baubles themselves ranged from small handmade ones that had been created by Phil’s sisters and by Phil himself to ones that his great-grandparents had started to collect when they got married to brand new ones. It made for rather interesting collection all around but it still was the best tree that either male had seen in a long time.

 

“ Okay, so who first?” Clint asked, raising an eyebrow as he sat down next to the piles of presents for the three of them, Westerfield waddling over and pouncing on one that was shaped much like a bone. “Okay, puppy first,” he chuckled, stroking a hand down his pet’s back.

 

Once Westerfield’s presents were done and over with, the puppy happily gnawing on a rawhide, Clint smirked and reached out, snagging one that was to his lover from Natasha. “You’re next,” he drawled, getting a low chuckle from the other man.

 

“ Alright, alright,” Phil hummed, taking the present and looking over the box covered in dark blue wrapping paper with snowflakes scattered over it. Pulling the wrapping free of the box, he popped the top and found a series of books that he had been wanting for the last six months but had never gone for. From there, he opened his present from Thor, which was a long, dark blue coat that was made in Asgard, and Tony, which turned out to be an updated version of the Stark laptop along with about a hundred new e-books waiting for him. The original copies of family pictures that Steve had tucked away came as a pleasant and welcomed surprise, the agent making a note to make copies for the rest of the family. And the sketch book with high quality graphite pencils from Bruce would be well used when he found time.

 

But it was the gift from his lover that he loved the most. It was an original, well taken cared of German made Solingen Steel Korium Dagger, one of the few pieces that he was missing from the collection that his father had started years ago. It was obviously well loved over the years and kept sharp, dark stains on the blade notwithstanding. He actually expected it so wasn’t very surprised by them.

 

“ It’s wonderful,” Phil hummed, leaning close and stealing a soft kiss that filled the both of them with the warmth of their love. “Your turn,” he said as they pulled apart, the two trading smiles.

 

“ Alright, alright,” Clint huffed, picking up his gift from Tony first. From the inventor, he received a perfectly made, well balanced bow and quiver that was made for him and just for him with hand grips that were molded for his fingers and the way he held his bow. Natasha gave him a new Stark pad, that obviously had been created by Tony, with just as many books as Phil had gotten from the others. Steve had gotten him a vintage crossbow with bolts for his personal collection, making him coo and stroke over it with a sigh of pleasure.

 

Phil just chuckled softly and shook his head as he held out the package from Thor.

 

That gift turned out to be another long coat, this one a deep purple with a bit of fur trim around the top of it. Bruce had given him several cards worth a few hundred dollars to some of his favorite stores, the card telling him he hadn’t been sure as to what to get him.

 

The gift for both of them from Pepper turned out to be a full set of dishes and pots and pans to put into their kitchen. “Aww, how sweet, she remembered that our pans got ruined due to Thor,” Clint drawled, making Phil roll his eyes as he picked up the brand new kitchen wear.

 

“ Grab the dishes. We’ll use them tonight,” Phil huffed, hauling the box into the dining room and putting it down on the table. “Let’s see, she went for the really good ones that come from that one cooking chick you like so much,” he drawled as he pulled out the red colored pots and pans.

 

With a little investigation, they found a full cooking utensil set, ranging from the measuring spoon and cups all the way up to tongs and spatulas of various sizes and types. “She really outfitted us,” Clint breathed, as the finished replacing their old things with the new.

 

“ Yeah, must have cost a pretty penny,” Phil chuckled, shaking his head as he checked on the ham, stepping over Westerfield with a practiced ease. “Good thing we bought her a full outfit, jewelry and accessories included,” he said, basting the ham with his knew baster. “We’ll have to hug her when we see her next.”

 

“ Fuck just her, all of them. I just found one last one that Bruce must have snuck in,” Clint said from the tree, having been picking up the wrapping paper. He had found a book shaped present near the back and pulled off the wrapping paper, finding a first edition of Shakespeare’s collection of sadder plays. “Damn, he found us a nineteen hundred edition,” he cooed happily, holding it up before moving to a locked display case and finishing off their collection.

 

Phil just chuckled and walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist. “Merry Christmas, Clint.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Phil,” Clint hummed, smiling and pressing close to his lover.

 


	44. Fix Him 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 44  
> Character: Avengers  
> Word count: 1,461  
> AN: Yes, I am behind on this and I'm SO SORRY. I was beyond exhausted on Monday and the last few days just have been nothing but BUSY. So here is this weeks chapter. Now, hopefully I'll go back to my normal schedule. :P 
> 
> *~*~*~*

The day after Christmas found most of the Avengers, minus Phil and Clint, in the common room apartment, working on setting everything up with the help of Phil’s mother, father and sisters. Maria had decided that since her son and, in her mind, son-in-law wasn’t going to make it to the main family gathering, she was going to bring the close family to him.

So far the men had tree up and ready along with the lights strung around while the women had been cooking up a storm to feed everyone. And all of it had been helped by Tony when Maria had called him to set everything up. The genius had jumped at the chance of having some of her rolls again, still trying to beg the recipe off of her.

She wasn’t budging but promised to make a huge batch before she went home so he could freeze the dough with the instructions and make them when he wanted them.

As it was, Tony was standing on a ladder, fiddling with a line of lights, making sure that the bulbs were all glowing for him before smiling happily and stepping down. Steve moved back and patted his shoulder as Pepper giggled and pressed against her brand new girlfriend, Natasha.

Tony and Pepper had split just after the second of December, both of them more interested in someone else but still close friends. Natasha understood the need that Pepper sometimes felt when she went to sleep with Tony and didn’t mind it happening as long as she knew about it happening. And sometimes could watch the two of them.

For the moment though, Tony was working on wooing his own partner, the ever shy but still strong Bruce Banner. It was adorable to Pepper really and made her smile as Tony helped the other scientist move the table so that it had enough room to hold everyone at the table. Chuckling, Pepper shook her head and stood up from where she was cuddling with her girlfriend, drawing the other woman to help in the kitchen with the rest of the gossiping females.

“So when is our friends to arrive here?” Thor asked as he moved the now empty boxes into the small bedroom that was mostly there to be used as storage when the apartment wasn’t in use.

“Soon,” Maria said, smiling as she pulled out a table cloth and had Bruce help her spread out over the table, Tony eying it with a hum.

“Old world. Hand created,” he said, humming softly as he stroked over the lace work. “Are you sure that you trust this rowdy group to keep it clean?” Tony asked, getting a soft smile from her.

“It has survived six generations of Coulsons. I think it will survive this,” Maria stated, nodding her head as she gave the rowdiest of the bunch a knowing look. Thor swore that he would behave the entire time and eat politely, a lesson that he had learned hard when they had gone to Thanksgiving at the Coulson house.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Tony chuckled and made a note to actually go to the house that his father had built and finally go through everything there. There was quite a bit from his mother and his father that he had never gone through, but seeing how close the Coulson was, he wanted to reconnect, in a way, to his roots. It was just a matter of getting the courage to do so.

Just as they finished setting the table, Phil and Clint walked into the apartment and blinked at the sight that greeted them. Everything was decked out in Christmas decorations with a giant fake tree and a fire place scene on the TV, candles creating a sweet smell under the scent of food cooking.  
“The hell?” Phil cursed, shaking his head as he stared at his mother who snorted.

“Language, Phillip,” Maria scolded, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Sorry mother,” Phil husked, hugging her tightly before allowing his lover to get his own hug from her. “But what are you guys doing here? I thought you’d be home in Arizona.”

“Oh sweety, like we’re going to let you get away without a family Christmas dinner if we can help it,” Maria snorted, smiling at her child and stroking his cheek. “Now that you have a more solid place of living we’re going to come visit when we can and do holidays here even if it has to be the day after,” she promised, getting smiles from the two lovers.

“Thank you, mom,” Phil hummed, pulling his mother into a hug once more, smiling as she squeezed back just as hard.

“Come on, you two. We have some gifts that we couldn’t send to you because they’re so fragile,” she chuckled, drawing them into the living room area where everyone waited. Once hellos and hugs were given out, the women puttered back into the kitchen once more to continue working on dinner, starting breakfast while they were at it. Phil and Clint were both given rather large piles of presents that came from the rest of the family. They added several more books to their ever growing collection, several more gift cards to their favorite shopping and coffee places, along with a few electronic games that they had been wanting to pick up but had never done so for their gaming stations.

Everything was packed away into a few bags to take with them later while Phil and Clint sat in a corner as a movie played, entertaining everyone. Leaning into his lover, the archer chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Your mother is amazing,” he hummed, brushing his nose against the cheek that he had just kissed. Phil chuckled and laced their fingers together, nodding his head.

“She’s your mother now to, I hope you know that?” he teasingly asked, rubbing his nose into his lover’s hair, getting a poke into his side.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. As if I didn’t notice how she was treating me as if I was one of her many chicks and she was the mother hen,” Clint snorted, shaking his head with an amused smile on his lips. “But yes, I do know that and I’m feeling rather lucky that she likes me so much,” he hummed, Phil leaning down to steal a quick kiss from him.

“She does more than like you a lot. She’s starting to love you quite a bit, just as I love you,” Phil hummed. Clint flushed slightly, knowing that it wasn’t often that his usually strong lover was so vulnerable when his feelings but it seemed to come out at just the right time.

“I know. Love you to,” Clint chuckled softly, stealing another kiss from his lover. Sharing smiles, the archer hummed softly before standing up with a sudden thought. “I need to go save our apartment from the furry child first before we do anything,” he stated, rushing out of the common apartment and to the shared one next door with a muttered curse.

“Furry child?” Maria asked, Steve smiling as he dried a dish next to her.

“Westerfield. Clint went and convinced Phil to adopt a little ball of fluff that they called Westerfield,” Steve chuckled, moving to put away the dish and help finish drying the dishes.

“Oh, furry child,” Maria cooed happily, smiling sweetly as she moved back to continue cooking and planning on slipping the new puppy some bacon. It was a grandmother’s right to spoil her grandchildren after all, fuzzy and on four legs notwithstanding. Once Clint came back with said puppy, she cooed and stole him right out of his hands, cooing happily at him and hugging him close. “Oh but you are adorable,” she cooed, getting a happy puppy licking at her face.

Clint just looked at his smirking lover and shook his head. “Okay, that was…adorable and stuff but that was way to fluffy for me,” he stated, moving to sit down next to Phil and watch as the rest of the family got to know their little ball of fluff.

The rest of the dinner went off without a hitch. Westerfield was spoiled rotten while Phil and Clint smiled and hung out with friends and family. Thor behaved like a gentleman and helped Maria remove the one stain that came from Phil’s father and a bottle of wine getting knocked over when he tried to get up to use the bathroom.

Outside of that, Phil and Clint considered the day a success story, one during that they were happy to rest and relax during.


	45. Fix Him 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 45  
> Character: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 2,247  
> AN: Okay, so last Monday consisted of sleeping and cursing the dreaded Laundry. *shudders* I hate laundry. Then Tuesday was seeing off the friend and Wed was traveling. Ever since it has been busy, busy, busy.
> 
> Now, I have a Dirty White Boy (white coffee with white chocolate, it's nummy!) and I'm ready to post this thing! Enjoy.
> 
> *~*~*~*

It hadn’t been their first fight, at least not when it came to the smaller fights that they had before, but it was their first big fight as a couple and over a rather stupid reason for any other couple. But for Clint, who worried about his lover leaving him, it had been a very valid reason for him to worry about the fact that Phil was spending so much time with Steve. Especially when Phil wouldn’t tell him why and they always made sure no one could hear them.

So no, the fight that wasn’t their first but still it had put a strain on them and their relationship. Phil was snarling even more than before, scaring anyone not used to him as a snarling man with a gun senseless. Clint on the other hand had once more taken to hiding in the vents since Fury had forbidden him from staying in the helicarrier until it had all been taken cared of. Tony and Pepper were both getting tired of being woken up, along with their respective partners, by a report from a robot that cleaned the vents that came across a sleeping archer.

Tony had started to bitch about his bots not being able to do their jobs properly at night.

The first time Clint had left with some weak excuse when Phil hand walked into the same room, Thor, who hadn’t been there for the fight, had quietly asked Bruce what was going on. He had agreed that the fight did seem rather stupid but could understand where both men stood.

After all, for nearly eight years, they were nothing more than handler and agent, and then suddenly they were partners who worked together, Clint’s relationship history leaving a lot to be desired, but so did Phil’s past. So the last fight had left them had left them in new territory with no map or GPS to help them navigate through it.

Sighing as Phil left, Clint watching him do so with sad eyes, Bruce yanked Tony down and started to whisper his plan.

Three hours later, Phil was being shoved into his shared apartment with the door shutting and locking behind him. Turning around, he tugged at the door handle with a scowl, jumping when Clint landed quietly on the floor, having jumped down from his cozy cove.

“They’re not going to let us go until we actually talk,” Clint stated, waving a letter before handing it to his lover. Phil took it and read it over with a scowl, his eyebrows coming together

“They’re tired of us fighting huh?” he rasped, wincing at the rawness of his throat, Clint blinking several times at him.

“What the hell happened to your voice?” Clint asked, worry rearing up at the way Phil sounded.

“The reason why I was speaking with Steve so often actually,” Phil replied, frowning has he moved to make some tea heavy with honey. “It had to do with his past and part of an extremely private part of his life.”

“Is that why you never told me just why you with him so much?” Clint asked, feeling bad about not having through about it before as he followed after his lover.

Phil nodded his head as he filled the kettle with some water and placed it onto the stove. “Yeah. I still can’t talk about any details, but it had to deal with someone from Steve’s past so I needed a lot of information about them. At least personal details,” he said, pulling down the tea bags and honey along with a cup to make his tea. “I would have talked with you about it after I had the information last week, but first of all, you’re really hard to pin down when you’re hiding from someone. Second of all, I had to finish with the actual mission, which I did yesterday and with only a sore throat and burning thighs to show for it.”

“Phil,” Clint breathed, feeling bad at having jumped to such quick conclusions. He was an agent and so was his lover, and he should have thought like one when it came to his lover spending time with another agent. Phil just smiled and stroked his cheek with his thumb, soothing him with a single move before pouring his water and making his tea.

“There is no reason to worry, lover,” Phill hummed as he stirred in some honey. Sipping it, he sighed at the soothing quality of the tea, eyes closing for a moment. “I could have told you why I couldn’t tell you why I was around Steve so often and understand where you were coming from.” He sighed softly. “Both of us don’t have the best relationship history after all.”

“Yeah, but I was a possessive shit and should have trusted you more,” Clint said, coming up behind his lover to wrap his arms around Phil’s waist and rested his cheek on his shoulder. Phil chuckled lowly and laced their fingers together as he sipped at his tea, feeling the soothing effects of both drink and lover unwind the tension that he had been carrying around since the fight had happened.

Clint hummed lowly and nuzzled his lover’s neck, feeling better now that everything had been cleared up, but wanted something more from the other. They hadn’t been together in the same bed since the fight had happened and the best part of making up was the makeup sex.

Phil chuckled, knowing what was on his partner’s mind. “Let me finish with my tea and then we’ll go to bed,” he promised, feeling the archer smile against his shoulder. Finishing his tea quickly, he put the cup into the sink, moved the kettle from the burner and drew his lover into the bedroom. The two lover’s had to chuckle and smirk at the way the room had been set up with flickering candles that they knew was battery powered and the very thick bedding that they kept for colder nights and didn’t want to use the heater.

“Looks like they were planning this for a few hours,” Clint chuckled as he walked over to the bed, stripping out of his clothes. Phil smirked and closed the door, watching as the other male put on a show for him. Lean hips swayed as long legs were exposed as his pants dropped to the floor. His back was soon exposed to when his shirt was pulled off, being dropped to the side while Clint slid onto the bed with a smirk.

Moving to the bed himself, Phil stripped out of his clothes, not bothering with laying them out on the chair like usual. He pulled off his tie first, tossing it onto the bed before yanking off his jacket and shirt as he kicked his shoes off. Clint moaned in anticipation, watching every move from his partner, eyes greedily taking in every detail presented to him. There was a new cut on Phil’s side, but it wasn’t much so Clint ignored it in favor of staring at the length that was hard and ready for him.

“I have missed you being here, wearing nothing but a lusty look on your face and a hard cock kissing your stomach, waiting for me,” Phil husked, his eyes flaring and making Clint shiver in even more anticipation. “Now, put your hands above your head and hold onto the headboard until I say that you can let go,” he ordered.

Clint’s eyes widened and he shuddered softly pleasure. Lifting his hands, he curled his fingers around the iron headboard and held on as Phil straddled his lap. Gasping, he arched his head back when his lover tugged on his hair, the other sealing their lips together in a deep kiss, tongues coming to slide together.

He firmly kept his hands wrapped around the headboard even as he moaned and responded to the kiss, eyes glazed and half opened.

After a few moments, Phil pulled away, smirking down at his partner, enjoying the whine and the flushed look that Clint was sporting. Rubbing the other’s bottom lip, grunting when an agile tongue came out to dance over the pad, he reached out and snagged his tie. Smirking down again at his partner, he wrapped the tie around his lover’s wrists, making sure that he had room to move but was still connected to the headboard itself. 

“Stay put, lover dear,” Phil purred, smirking down at the archer, knowing he was looking forward to what he was going to do next. Smirking even more, he shifted to grab the lube that they had bought just before the fight and moved to kneel between long legs.

Curling his hand around Clint’s hard cock, he stroked once, making him groan and arch up into the hand, hips twitching. Phil chuckled lowly and swiped his thumb down the underside of the prick. The wiggling moan that he got made a curl of lust tighten deep in his groan and his dick twitch.

Licking his lips, Phil pressed Clin’ts hips down onto the bed and gave him a look. “Keep still until I tell you that you can move,” He stated, getting a whine from his bound lover. Smirking again, loving the control over his lover, Phil gave the prick in his hand a squeeze in reward before he picked up the bottle of lube and shook it. “I’m sorry but at the moment I’m not really able to wait for much longer,” he said, coating his fingers with the slick substance.

Clint just moaned lowly in agreement, muscles twitching as he forced himself from moving his legs into a more inviting position. Phil gave him a soft look, letting go of the prick to move the long legs into a more comfortable position. Petting the archer’s inner thigh, he brought his slicked fingers down to the twitching hole he wanted to bury himself in after so long without his partner in their bed.

Phil hummed and rubbed against the muscles, feeling them relax under his fingers. Smile spreading over his lips, he slid the first finger into the tight heat, feeling Clint spasm around the digit. The archer moaned happily and wiggled, breaking the command to hold still and receiving a slap to his ass for it. It stung, but only slightly, making him groan at the pleasure that rocked through him with the sting.

“Did you enjoy that?” Phil asked, cocking an eyebrow at that new fact before leering, working his finger in and out of the relaxing muscles. He was able to quickly work in two more fingers, amazed at the tightness around them as he always was. Clint went back to holding still and moaning for more as his body shuddered with the need to move and get more. “You can move once I’m buried within you,” he said, getting a whimper of need.

Pulling his figners free from the grasping entrance, Phil coated his length with some of the lube as Clint watched with dark eyes. Leering, he pressed against the stretched entrance and move done leg into a different position. Pushing in, they both growled at being connected, the long body going limp with a low sigh.

Moving so that he could rest his hands next to Clint’s sides, Phil moaned when long legs came to rest around his waist, drawing him deeper. Rocking, he watched as his partner grasped onto the headboard even tighter, feeling him rock back. Pulling back until just the tip of his length was all that connected them, he used his body and strength to thrust back into his lover with a sharp sound of skin meeting skin.

Clint groaned lowly and arched, legs squeezing around the other’s waist, pulling him deeper into the tightness. Phil growled and started a rough pace, taking his lover, placing a renewed claim on the writhing body under him. 

They moved together, pressing and rubbing against the other as their lust flared high and pleasure rocked deep. Phil used one hand to work at stroking over Clint’s heavily leaking prick in time with this movements, feeling his own climax curl and tighten, but wanting the archer to fall over that edge first. Clint was groaning, body squeezing tightly around him, lost to the rough pleasure from his lover.

Mixed with the time away from his lover, Clint was the first to fall over the edge, spilling over his stomach and the storking, teasing hand. Phil snarled loudly and shuddered as the tightness around him became a velvet lined vice that pulled him over the edge along side his partner. The two shuddered and moaned through their climaxes, the handler holding himself up barely as they started to come down from their pleasured highs.

Pulling out of the still twitching body, Phil tugged the tie free from around Clint’s wrists and tossing it to the side. Groaning, he flumped down next to his lover, wiping his hand onto the bedding as his lover slowly stretched with a groan of his own. The handler sat up again after a moment and rubbed at his partner’s arms until they were moving properly again.

Relaxing once more, the two ignored the ringing phone before moving to the bathroom to wash up and fuck again, Clint’s voice drifting out of the bathroom. “I’ll go save Westerfield from Natasha and Pepper tomorrow.”


	46. Fix Him 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 46  
> Character: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 2,247  
> AN: Okay, so the last two weeks have included me trying and failing to keep a somewhat normal schedule with posting. I'm so sorry about this! I really am. But I'm back and posting and happy. Enjoy you guys.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Laying in bed, flying on the edge of sleep but not quite tired from the sex that he and Clint had participated in for the last few hours, Phil smiled as he stroked a hand down his lover’s back. The archer was out, snoring softly into his chest and still smiling from their fun, and probably a little more sore then normal from how often they had come together. 

His fingers danced over the red skin of Clint’s ass, smirking as he remembered just how it became so red, watching as the lean male mumbled something and curled up closer to him. Chuckling silently, Phil buried his nose into the soft hair, taking in the sweet scent of blackberries that was a part of a late Christmas gift from his mother. He and his partner found that they liked the all natural, lightly scented shampoos, conditioners and soaps were a nice treat for them.

Running his hand down Clint’s back again, Phil yawned slightly before stretching his body with a groan. His lover just shifted on him and sprawled out over his body, pinning him to the bed much to his amusement. Shaking his head, he continued to pet his lover’s back, stroking his hand up and down, fingering the occasional mark that he had put on the skin during their loving.

He was feeling a bit sore himself, Clint having taken him a couple of times. It wasn’t often that his lover topped but when it happened, it was a perfect, lovely, wonderful thing. It did usually leave him feeling sorer then his lover was when they came together but then again, Clint was slightly bigger than him and rarely topped after all, so it wasn’t surprising.

Shifting, he spotted his tie, the fabric still tied to the headboard from the second time that he had tied his lover up that night. Shifting, Phil thanked every God that he could think of that he wasn’t able to get aroused with how sated he was. At least for the moment. 

When Clint had been tied up, it had been like he had been freer, able to beg and whine for more. Their usual sex life was hot, random and loving at turns, but something about the almost bondage just had set the archer into overdrive. Phil would be surprised if the other male didn’t sit with hisses the next day considering how much he had begged to be spanked, or broke the commands. 

For Phil, seeing Clint’s ass a soft cherry color, sensitive to touch, had been a turn on, making him groan in need and want to possess his lover fully, which he had done. But for Clint, it had been something more, something that was tied to his past that no one knew about.

Not even Phil, despite how close they were. They both knew that the other had secrets that they would keep hidden and not out of spite, but instead out of need to hide that part of their heart and their souls, to hide the scars that had been left, both good and bad. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to share but that they couldn’t, not really. 

Sighing, Phil pressed a kiss to his lover’s curls, the thought of a curly haired archer making him smile and make a mental note to get his partner a hair cut again. He had a bad habit of letting it grow out and when it grew out, it tended to catch in the bow string. The smile dropped off his face as he curled his arm around the lean waist, pulling the long, strong body closer to him, rubbing at one hip with a thumb.

He had known since before he had started to sleep with Clint that the other man hovered on the edge of the BDSM community, which was why they often sent him in when a mission came from that world that not many know. But outside of the missions, he sometimes disappeared for a few nights to just relax and let go before coming back relaxed and content. 

But since they had come together, Clint had curbed those needs, turning them into need for his lover in all facets of their relationships so as to not overwhelm Phil. When he thought about it, Phil became slightly uncomfortable with the thought that his lover had to redirect his energy from something that he needed into something that he had just to keep what he had. 

He had been working on learning what the world was about, not wanting Clint to give up something that helped him keep his sanity. He had talked with a professional master, had actually done a few scenes when he had been a younger agent just joined with S.H.I.E.L.D. Phil had enjoyed it but he found when he had to act as a master he enjoyed the scene even more. After those first few missions, he had done it off and on for nearly two years before leaving it when his training started to pick up and his life became a lot more time restricted.

But now with Clint, he wanted to get back into it, reawaken his past and get back into that mind set once more. Stretching once more, Phil smiled softly, shifting he and his lover onto their sides, curling around the other as he pulled him close. He would talk with his mate in the morning about what he wanted when it came to their relationship, feeling that such things would be something that they would do only on occasion, for special reasons or to relax.

Sliding his hand down over Clint’s stomach, Phil idly played with the curled hair around his lover’s length before sliding his hand upwards once more, sighing as he relaxed into the heat of his partner. He was feeling good, once more riding that hazy line of the in-between of sleep and wakefulness, nuzzling into soft hair and humming in contentment. 

He knew he would be talking with his partner in the morning, after they had had their morning coffee and woken up from their post sex sleep. Phil would broach the subject with his lover before making any real decision on how they wanted to go about things. For now, with a yawn, he wanted to do nothing more than to curl up and sleep, nose buried in his mate’s hair and arms wrapped tight around the compact body pressed against his own.

Yawning once more, Phil fell asleep finally, smiling as Clint muttered something about dancing enchilada’s and eating them to beat them next to him.


	47. Fix Him 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 47  
> Character: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 2,247  
> AN: Almost forgot about posting this! So sorry you guys but I kind of got busy with writing up another chapter of some of my stories seeing as I'm doing CampNaNo once more. :P *chuckles* Hope you guys like it!
> 
> *~*~*~*

The coffee had been made and poured, breakfast was baking in the oven, the scent of cinnamon dancing in the air along with the scent of caramelized sugar. Clint was sitting on a thick, soft pillow, inhaling the scent of his vanilla tinted coffee as he tried to fully wake up. Westerfield was curled up on his lap, decked out with a brand new collar and tags from the girls and freshly washed. He had attached himself to them the moment that the girls had dropped him off, much to their amusement.

“Clint, I’ve been thinking about something,” Phil said as he stirred his coffee, pouring a bit more of the cream into his coffee before tossing the spoon into the sink. Tasting his coffee, he smiled at the sleepily curious look he was getting. 

“Was that why you were up for a good hour after I went down?” Clint asked, voice rough, well used the night before.

Smirking smugly, Phil tasted his coffee before nodding his head. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to think about some things before I said anything about it,” he said, leaning against the counter as Clint hummed and drained his coffee with a sigh.

“So, hit me with it,” Clint stated, nodding his head that he was ready for whatever his lover wanted to say.

Phil took a slow, deep breath and then asked, “Do you want to go to the club with me? And I’m not talking dance clubs.” Clint blinked a few times at him before rocking back on his seat as the implications hit him hard.

“You mean…?” he trailed off, Phil nodding his head in return. Clint blew out a slow breath, surprised by the offer. He had known that his lover had hit the clubs a few times as an agent, which wasn’t that odd considering that most agents did at least one BDSM themed mission in their career. Rolling his head, he stretched his arms with a grunt before leaning forward with a frown, thinking about what was being offered.

Before he had Phil, he would go to the clubs that he knew were discreet, safe, and just let go. He wanted to do nothing more then lose himself in the pleasure and pain that was offered by some of his favored masters. It had been a way for him to shed off the stress that he had been feeling after the harder missions, the ones that haunted his every step afterward. He didn’t indulge in it all of the time, not wanting to lose the specialness of it, but he did it every six months or so when he had time. 

But once he had become lovers with Phil, he had stopped that, not wanting to even chance cheating on his lover. He had found different outlets for his energy and stress, but still he had the urge to go back to the clubs once more, join in on the release of being in charge in any possible way. 

Sighing softly, Clint nodded his head when Phil poured some fresh coffee, not having noticed that he had drained his coffee while he had been thinking. Watching as his partner poured himself a fresh cup, he put the now wiggling Westerfield down onto the floor before sitting up straight again. “I suppose that I do want to go back…and if it’s with you, I’m all for it,” he finally said, getting a smile from his partner. 

Chuckling softly, Phil nodded his head, adding fresh cream and sugar to his cup of coffee before offering both containers to Clint. “Good. Which club would you like to go to and what would you feel comfortable with?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Clint hummed softly in thought as he made his own coffee, forgoing the creamer and reaching for the vanilla syrup that he had made. Adding a bit of that, he smiled and shrugged. “We’re going to need to shop for a few things, like a proper collar for me, as you well know. We’ll also need new clubbing clothing and other things. As for when we get there,” he drawled, closing his eyes as he sipped at the steaming coffee. “Well, as for when we get there, I don’t mind small crowd scenes. I’m not much into the full club audience scenes.”

“So only private scenes with maybe one or two people we trust and like?” Phil asked, Clint nodding his head. “Does your favorite club require contracts between us?” he continued, making mental notes on what needed to be done before they went to the club.

“Yeah. At least for when we are there. It takes in couples who only go to the club for the occasional scene or to relax, but allows those who are there to learn and who wish to research what the scene is all about,” Clint replied, smiling and nodding his head. “I’ll find the basic contract that they give to all new couples and then we’ll work out what we want to keep and get rid of. Sounds good?” he asked.

Phil nodded his head, finally just digging around in their catch all drawer for a small note pad, making notes on it. “Do we bring our own equipment? Or do they provide safe, good equipment?”

“Both actually. I do suggest bringing our own equipment because their stuff is first come first serve unless it’s been reserved and that can take months to get a reservation,” Clint replied. “We’ll get a full kit when we go for the collar. Some of the things we can even use when it’s just us and no one else,” he purred, promise evident in his voice and making Phil flush at the thought of what his lover was suggesting.

“Make a list, Clint, while you take a hot bath and I’ll find out how much we can get away with spending,” Phil stated, getting a smirk. Clint slid off of the stool, taking the pillow with him to put back on the bed and did just that. He took a hot bath in their bathroom with some herbal scented bath oils that they found helped them both to be able to move without wincing, writing out a rather extensive list of everything that he had a feeling that they needed.

The list included toys, both vanilla and made for the scene that they wanted to do, supplies to keep the toys in working shape, and several types of oils and lubes that they could use that he knew they both enjoyed. Once he was done with the list and a general pricing of each item, he set it aside and slid further down into the water with a sigh. Phil came into the bathroom and used the shower stall, washing off the last of their night together and giving Clint a show, making the man smirk smugly at it.

Once they were both done with that, Phil placed the money that they had for their shopping trip into an envelope and pulled his computer close to him so he could properly price what they were going to buy. As he did that, Clint got out of the bath, dried off, dressed and hitched Westerfield into his little harness and leash, laughing softly as the young puppy tried to chew on it to get it off.

Done with their chores, the two lovers headed out, taking one of the vans to the store that Clint had gone to for his supplies before he had gotten with Phil. The entire time that they were going over everything, the archer explained what some items were used for, his partner had a soft flush on his cheeks. If he didn’t know any better, Clint would have thought that it was Phil’s first time in an all inclusive porn shop, but he knew that it was just the fact that it was because there was so many things offered.

A lot of them that he wanted to try on Clint himself.


	48. Fix Him 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 48  
> Character: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 2,129  
> AN: We're almost to the end you guys. After this chapter, only about 4 more to go. That means one more month before this is done and over with! Good lord, it has been a wild ride, hasn't it? I hope you enjoy this chapter. :D *hugs*
> 
> *~*~*~*

When they finally went to the club, having bought all new outfits and toys that had been placed into a hard sided duffel bag, they were still amused by their friends reactions. Most of the Avengers gave them odd looks for their choice of outfits when they had finally seen them, Tony and Bruce just looking mildly amused. Phil was wearing a pair of leather pants that were soft and molded to his body, matching the loose velvety soft shirt that he wore in color. He wore a simple pair of boots that he rather liked and had stashed in his closet for those dates with Clint that required something other than loafers.

Clint though was wearing a bit less than his lover. He wore a pair of leather jeans that laced up the sides, flashing skin with every movement of long legs and a simple sleeveless shirt. The collar that rested around his neck had been specially made just for him so fit beautifully while also allowing him to easily breath. It also had a ring for the leash that Phil would put on him when they got to the club.

Tony was leering at them and swirling a cup of scotch, hiding his knowledge with jokes. “So, gonna play with your pet there, Coulson?” he asked, Bruce flushing and shaking his head with a groan. Steve just hid himself behind a sketch book, sighing softly to himself as he tried to keep from turning bright red at the thought of two of his friends indulging in such a thing. Natasha just ducked down in her own seat while Thor watched with wide eyes.

Coulson just gave Tony a look that promised retribution later on as Clint smirked and winked at him, dragging his lover out of the tower and to the van that waited for them with their duffel of toys. “Come on, lover boy, let’s ignore him. He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” he soothed when the other male started to grumble about perverted genius’ and their need to annoy.

“You’re right,” Coulson said, smirking as they climbed into the van, the handler driving them to the club that Clint enjoyed the most. They had a copy of their contract that stated their relationship in and out of the work place wouldn’t be changing, they were just adding a new element that wouldn’t be used all that often. It was something that they had agreed to when they had first gotten together but now it was down on paper, signed by them and witnessed by Natasha.

Who had told them to play safe and have lots of fun while smirking at them.

Arriving at the club, they filed the copy of their contract before renting a room that was on the second floor with a one way window to watch what happened down below without being watched themselves. Once there, Clint was told to strip and sent to a pillow near the window to watch the action down below while Phil set out what he wanted to use, including the newest restraints. 

He had gone over what he remembered with Natasha and gotten some new ideas from the assassin as he had packed the bag, going for some of the simpler items. A flogger made of supple material with a matching whip, a few bottles of different types of oils that were made to sooth ones hurts and a few toys that he would use to open his lover up later in the play. Looking over to Clint, Phil smiled at the way his lover was watching a new scene down below. 

Full lips were tugged slightly into a smile while eyes were half lidded, Clint already preparing for what was to come. He knew that if anything should happen, his lover would be there to protect him. 

Finishing with the set up, Phil strolled over, picking up his bottle of soda, and drank half of it down before putting it back down onto the table. “Are you thirsty?” he asked, Clint not moving outside of his eyes closing most of the way and sliding towards him. 

“Yes, sir,” came the prompt reply. Phil hummed and picked up the other bottle of soda and walked over, tipping his lover’s head back and opening his mouth before pouring some of the soda in. “Swallow,” he instructed once he had finished, Clint closing his mouth and swallowing, smiling up at him. “Good boy. Come on, stand up and walk over to the seat.”

Standing up, Clint did as he was instructed, walking over to the seat. It wasn’t much of a seat, but rather a creation that could be used. It could be moved into various positions, all of them created for the comfort of whoever was attached to it or was sitting on it. Setting it up so that his lover was facing it, arms wrapped around the back of it as he straddled the seat, Phil used the restraints to make sure the other was in place before stepping back.

“Is it fine?” he asked, Clint testing the restraints subtly before nodding his head with a smile.

“Yes, sir,” Clint replied, Phil stroking a hand through his hair and making him hum in pleasure.

“Good. You know the rules. If you’re not comfortable, you tell me after saying purple. If you want to stop, you say rose,” he said, the two words having been agreed upon by them as words that neither of them would forget any time soon.

Clint nodded his head. “Yes, sir.” Settling into the seat, he hummed lowly with a smile, waiting for what was going to come next, sighing as a blindfold was settled over his eyes. He moaned when Phil’s fingers raked through his hair, smoothing it out as he rested his arms on the offered arm rests attached to the back of the seat. 

He relaxed into the seat, going with it when it was flattened out, moving easily to lay onto his stomach, head turned to the side as he listened to Phil move around the room. He gasped when he felt the flogger whisper over his skin in a teasing movement as it was danced over his back. “I want you to keep as still as possible,” came the instruction.

“Yes, sir,” Clint gasped, shivering under the feel of the flogger against his skin. When the first strike came, it was light, making the strike area tingle even as the flogger went back to just brushing up and down his back.

“Very good boy,” Phil hummed into his ear, Clint already falling into his head, floating on the trust and love for his lover. 

The next swat came suddenly, along with the next, harder than the first one, making the skin throb and tingle where the flogger had landed. He allowed himself to make noise, body relaxed but still not moving, knowing that if he did, the pleasure would end and he would be punished. Gasping and moaning with each strike to his back, ass and thighs, Clint curled his fingers around the arm rests, feeling the blood surging to his length, making him whimper in need to shift into a better position.

Phil paused, stroking a hand over the redness, soothing him with just a touch. “Go ahead and move into a more comfortable position, Clint. Don’t be afraid to,” he said, getting a sigh of relief as the archer lifted his hips so that his length could nestle against his stomach in the indented section of the backing. 

“Thank you, sir,” Clint said, smiling as he was once more petted by his partner, the pleasurable torment starting up again. Between the flogger and the whip, he was reduced to a pleading mess even before Phil started with the toys, mixing between the two to bring the most pleasure that he could for his lover. The words that came out of his mouth were filthy, promising a loving that would make it so that he had to be carried out of the club in front of all the people down below.

The thought garnered a moaning shudder from Clint, making Phil smirk as he stroked his own length, still mostly dressed aside from his shirt having been tossed aside.

Clint was grasping onto the armrests, body completely limp as his back, thighs and ass hummed with the stinging that came from the whip and flogger. The toy that was buried in him the same size and length as his partner was twitched with each subtle movement of his body. He sobbed when the hits and brushes stopped, the sound of a bottle opening not registering in his hearing before two slicked covered hands stroked down his back, soothing the sting, before they removed the toy in him.

He groaned when something made of flesh and steel filled him instead of the toy, following the coaxing hands that lifted his hips up, feet placed on the floor as he felt Phil bottom out fully. All that came from him was a soft sigh of pleasure, a smile dancing over Clint’s lips as he went limp once more, the chair and the hands on his hips holding him up as his lover moved. The slow movements in and out of his body was a contrast to the hits and filthy words from earlier. The brush of leather against the sensitive skin of his ass sent shivers through him as he whined, needing to come but not able to until his lover told him he could.

The archer shuddered as a strong hand came around to curl around his length, stroking in time with the thrusts into his body, making Clint whine in need, head arched back. A sharp nip to his shoulder told him that he wasn’t in trouble but should control himself as much as he could even as Phil sped up his movements.

“I want you to come for me, my little archer. Show me how much you like having me buried in you, fucking you into a senseless mess,” Phil purred, Clint shuddering before crying out and spilling over the seat, dragging him over the edge with. Groaning after a few moments, resting his head against his lover’s back, the handler pulled away with a slick pop, smirking when Clint whined, unable to do much more with how sated he was.

Wiping himself off with some of the wipes in the duffle bag, Phil tucked himself away once more before cleaning Clint’s back up as much as possible. Uncuffing him from the straps, he used some of the massage oil that he had used earlier on the marks created by their toys to rub feeling back into his partner’s arms, sliding the blindfold up slightly and smiling at the glazed look in the eyes that stared back at him.

Once he was sure that Clint could use his arms properly, Phil picked him up and placed him onto the couch on his stomach before using more of the oil on the marks, watching them fade to a dusky pink color. After that was done, he turned to tending to the toys, making sure each one was well cared for before placing them away into their personal containers and tucking the containers into the bag once more. Finished with that, Phil returned to his lover with the neatly folded pile of clothes and gently slid them onto the limp body, Clint still not completely there. 

Shaking his head, he cleaned down the chair, setting it back into its original position before moving to gather his other half. He knew the back way out, because despite his words, he was a possessive bastard and didn’t want anyone else to see his partner in his post-haze state. “Come on, lover, let’s head home,” Phil drawled, hauling Clint up onto his feet, grabbing the bag and dropping a large tip into the tip drawer before leading the out of it archer down the stairs and out the back door to their van.

Once they got home, Phil made sure that his lover was comfortable in their bed, checked on the dozing Westerfield, who had somehow wrapped himself around the rawhide bone that he had gotten from Pepper, and made something easy to eat for the both of them. As they ate, Clint sipping at broth since it was nicer to his throat, the older of the two chuckled lowly. “Seems as if it was quite a bit of fun and relaxing for both of us.”

“Yep,” Clint husked, smirking slightly. “Let’s do it for your birthday.” Phil just chuckled and stole a broth flavored kiss from the other male.


	49. Fix Him 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 49  
> Character: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 1350  
> AN: What's this? An on time chapter? Yes! Indeed it is. :P Okay, so I hope you guys enjoy this and all that. I'm going to work on stuff. Got to continue writing. 
> 
> *~*~*~*

A year. A very long, very difficult year but a year nonetheless.

Swallowing as he looked over the offered rings, Phil sighed and rubbed at his face as Natasha patted his shoulder with an amused look on her face. “I have no idea what I’m going to do, Natasha,” he grumbled as he looked at a simple ring. It was a dark onyx color but wasn’t actually made out of onyx but wasn’t what he wanted for his lover.

“Don’t worry so much about it, Phil,” she chuckled, picking out a dusky silver ring that Phil had to admit would look good on his lover’s finger. It didn’t have any stones, which he knew was a good thing considering the line of work they were in. Looking over it, he compared it to a few other rings, pointing to one that looked a lot like it. It was slimmer and had Celtic knots engraved into the ring itself.

“I think that’ll look good,” Phil said, looking over it with a smile playing over his lips. “I’ll take this one please,” he told the sales man, handing over the ring with the proper size before going to look over the selection of what they had for wedding rings for two men. Having a good idea of what they offered, he moved to collect the ring and pay for it, Natasha cackling softly behind him as he tried to fight the blush on his cheeks. “Shove it, woman. I’ll make you train the idiots again,” he threatened, getting pouted at by her.

“You’re a rather mean man,” she teased, making him roll his eyes. “How does Clint put up with you?”

“He puts up with me because I’m good in bed,” he stated as they got into the car. After a quick lunch pickup for him and Clint, Natasha getting a milkshake, as promised, for her help, they headed back to the Avengers Tower and to their separate apartments.

Finding the one that he shared with Clint empty, Phil smiled and set about putting out their lunch. He put the ready to cook deep dish pizza into the oven. He had gone to their favorite “make it for you” place to get a favored pizza, before putting out plates, silverware, glasses and put the bottle of wine that they liked aside to breath.

As the pizza cooked, he pulled out the ring and fiddled with it, smiling softly to himself as he remembered the last year. It had been one full of a roller coaster effects, which annoyed him to a point but had been well worth it. He and Clint had been partners in one form or another for nearly eight years, and the added bonus of having a lover in the same person he could trust with his life had been wonderful.

Rubbing at the ring, he smiled softly and rolled his shoulders as the memory of watching his lover be taken over by the staff flooded his mind. Clint had beaten himself up over being so easily manipulated up until Phil had convinced Thor to talk to him about Loki’s abilities, even under the control of another being. It had soothed his heart to know that even under control, his lover had still been strong willed enough to fight against the control.

Smiling, Phil closed the box as the front door opened as the timer went off for the pizza. “Welcome back. You made it in time for lunch,” he called, walking to the kitchen and grabbing pot holders to pull out the pizza. Putting it on top of the stove, he let it settle as Clint walked in with a smile dancing on his lips. “Have fun with the recruits?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at the other man.

“Oh loads,” Clint purred, pressing a kiss to his cheek before moving to grab a soda. “I shot a few so they’re in the infirmary for the next couple of days,” he warned, getting a curious look as Phil slid the pizza onto a serving dish, putting the cutter next to it.

“Why?” Phil asked, wondering what would have been so bad for his lover to actually shoot a recruit before they were even partially trained in how to deal with one of the higher assassins.

“They are rather anti-gay for some odd reason. I told them that it was a good thing that it was just me and not Bruce,” Clint drawled, smirking at them before he shrugged his shoulders. “The Hulk would have landed them in intensive care,” he said, chuckling brightly before drinking down half of his soda and following Phil into the dining room. Sitting down when his lover waved him to, he smiled at him and wondered what was going on. “Well, this is nice. What’s the occasion?” he asked.

Phil just smirked and started to cut the pizza, dishing it between the two of them. “You’ll find out. For now, eat something. You’ve been busy all day with idiot recruits and other idiots,” he told his lover, getting a chuckle as Clint took his plate before standing up to go grab the bags of chips that they had just bought. Bringing them to the table, he opened them up and slid a few of one chip onto his plate, Phil grabbing the other bag and following his example

Once they had food in front of them, they started to eat, both of them talking about their day, Phil being careful about the details that he shared with his lover. “I still can’t believe that she convinced you to buy her a milk shake,” Clint teased, eating another bite of cheese, meat and bread, having resorted to his fork.

Phil huffed and scowled at the other male around his own forkful of pizza before shaking his head. “Aww, come off of it,” he snorted, tossing part of a chip at his lover. “Anyways, she did help me with what I was doing so the milkshake wasn’t much of a hardship,” he continued.

“How much did you spend?” Clint asked, raising an eyebrow at Phil, knowing that somehow it had been a good amount of money.

“Just enough to get what I wanted,” Phil replied, pulling out the ring and pushing the box over to him. Clint went still as he stared at the little box before putting his fork down onto his plate and reaching out with a shaking hand. Swallowing, he picked it up and opened it, finding the ring nestled within.

“What?” Clint squeaked, Phil reaching over and removing the ring from the box. Taking his left hand, he slid the ring onto his ring finger and raised an eyebrow at the wide eyed look on his partner’s face. “Really?” he squeaked, Phil smiling.

“Really. I wouldn’t have bought the ring if I didn’t mean it,” Phil stated, rubbing his thumb over his lover’s knuckles, Clint staring at the ring with a surprised but happy look on his face.

“So, we have a wedding to plan,” he breathed, chuckling softly as Phil pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “Where to start?”

“First of all, let’s bask in the fact that we’re engaged before we start that. I have a feeling that Tony will want to plan something big for our engagement party before we can even start to plan for it,” Phil chuckled, Clint smiling and nodding his head. “I think we can get some help if we want.”

“Small wedding?” Clint asked, Phil nodding in agreement.

“Yeah. Just us, the others, and our family,” Phil promised, the two leaning in and kissing softly before the older male stood up and moved to grab the wine bottle. Pouring the wine, they started to eat once more, talking about the wedding and the reception that would happen afterwards.

They both agreed that they wanted it in Arizona where all of Phil’s family could get to easily and be able to have enough room for everyone.


	50. Fix Him 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 50  
> Character: Phil/Cling  
> Word count: 1,347  
> AN: Almost forgot this. Just tired. Enjoy.
> 
> *~*~*~*

Humming softly as he went through fabrics for their tuxedos, Clint smiled to himself before he looked up from the soft cotton mix in his fingers. Phil was glaring at paper as he tried to figure out what kind to use for the invitations to family and friends. They already had the style and just needed to buy the pack of paper for them, but the handler was having a bitch of a time deciding since Tony had brought so many of the damn samples.

Chuckling softly, Clint had to admit that it was amusing that the genius was so intent on helping them plan a perfect wedding considering everything that they were going through. He was even paying for whatever they couldn’t afford or went over, which was turning out to be quite a bit. They had planned for a small wedding just between them, the Avengers and their family but it had ended up being much bigger then thought.

Then again, this was Tony they were talking about and nothing that he did was small or simple.

“Want to run away to Vegas yet?” Clint asked as he went back to looking at cloths. “And I like this fabric here,” he continued, handing over the swatch, letting his lover look at it and feel it between two fingers.

“I like it to. Dove gray?” Phil asked, getting a nod. “Perfect. And no, not yet. Knowing everyone, they’d come to the chapel and crash the wedding there,” he stated, narrowing down the choices to three papers, holding them out to Clint. “Choose.”

Clint took the papers and looked over them with a thoughtful frown on his lips. They were all shades of a dusky rose, which they wanted since the black would pop nicely against the shade. Or at least that’s what Natasha had told them. They had to agree that it was a nice color and one that they didn’t mind using for their wedding invitations. The archer finally chose the darkest of the three, one that looked a bit like parchment paper.

“I like it,” Phil hummed, taking the paper and making a note on the order form. Putting the papers away into the box that they came from, he stood up and stretched, groaning quietly. “Damn. Let’s see, we have the guest list, the place for the wedding and the reception set up. We have food planned, tuxedos chosen and cloth decided on. The paper will be filled within the next week or so, so we can print out the invitations out and send them off with plenty of time to get RSVPs from every one. We know the time and date and all of that good shit. I think we’re about done planning this thing,” he said, going for a bottle of beer.

“Yeah, now it’s just a matter of starting to stock pile everything at your parent’s place,” Clint said, following after Phil for a beer for himself.

“Mom is stockpiling already. Tony sent her a few thousand dollars to start buying the stuff that won’t die between now and then to store away until the cooking starts. My sisters have already agreed to go to the house a few days before to start cooking and getting things ready for the reception to,” Phil said, handing over a bottle of beer, the two males popping the caps off and drinking some of the liquid with sighs. “So we’re nearly ready for things to go ahead with.”

“Apparently Tony is going all out for us,” Clint sighed, shaking his head with an amused look on his face. “I think he might be showing off to Bruce, trying to get him to agree to letting him pay for their first vacation together. He wants to take our dear scientist to his Bahamas’ home,” he continued, rolling his shoulders with a groan.

Snickering, Phil reached out and stroked his shoulders with one hand, smiling at him. “You know what has me curious, how they fuck without Bruce’s little green problem coming out suddenly,” he said, rubbing at his chin with one finger, Clint just giving him an odd look.

“Don’t make me think thoughts like that,” Clint whined, shaking his head and draining his bottle of beer at the thought of those two screwing. And how they did so without Bruce Hulking out on them. “Seriously, that is not something that I want to think about considering how often they go at it. I swear that they’re part rabbit with how often they fuck,” he grumped, Phil chuckling softly.

“We fuck just as often as they do,” Phil drawled, tweaking his lover’s nose before making a couple bags of popcorn for them to nibble on as they finalized details for the wedding and reception. Sitting down, the two men went over their lists once more, making sure that each detail has been thought out. They had to change a few things that Tony had set up, including decorations that weren’t silk and embroidery but instead were the vine motif that they wanted in the first place.

They also had to figure out where the tables and chairs would sit, and where the people would sit in regards to the arrangement. They didn’t think that they wanted someone that would try to kill someone else for doing something wrong after all. Phil eyed the list and nibbled on the end of his pen as he frowned heavily to himself.

“Did we remember to book music?” he asked, making Clint look up from his own mutterings about the guest list.

Clint made a thoughtful sound before shrugging and digging around, looking for the folder labeled music. Finding it, he opened it and started to flip through the pages. “We booked a dj for the reception. He sent a music list over that has everything he has broken down into genres and then alphabetically arranged for the ease of choosing,” he said, handing over the file.

Phil looked at the size of the list before sighing and pulling out some new papers to start writing what they needed to go over. “Okay, so we don’t want to heavy and we have a small classical band playing for the wedding part right?” he asked, Clint nodding his head.

“Yep, that we did. They’re ready for us and know what songs we want,” he said, holding up those papers after shuffling about a bit through the file himself. “We paid them half in advanced, warned them that if they fuck us over we’d find them and make their lives hell and still get our money back.”

“Good. So all we need to worry about is the music for the reception then,” Phil stated, the two men smirking at each other before chuckling softly. “At least Tony isn’t allowed to choose the music. Can you imagine what he would do for it?”

“I hear heavy music. Evanescence, Sabbath, Metallica, Rob Zombie, Disturbed, and so many other bands that would just give everyone headaches,” Clint complained, rubbing at his face. “Remind me to put hair dye into Natasha’s shampoo for daring to introduce him to Evanescence please?”

“I’m not going to lose my husband before or after the wedding just because your best friend decided to introduce the metal junkie to a new band,” Phil stated, pointing a pen at his pouting fiancé. “No.”

“Mean bastard,” Clint huffed, his words without any heat as he moved to lean against his lover. Chuckling, Phil held up the pile of papers so that they could go over the music and choose what they wanted to be played at the reception, glad that they had taken Tony up on a few of his thoughts, knowing that things wouldn’t have gone as smoothly as it had been if not for him.

They were still figuring out who would have him as their best man and who would have Bruce as the other best man after all. Music and crazy ideas notwithstanding.


	51. Fix Him 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 51  
> Characters: Avengers   
> Word count: 1,448  
> AN: You guys are so lucky I'm willing to post tonight. So frickin' tired. I'm doing a book fair type thing for a friend so I'm busybusybusy. Especially tonight. *yawns cutely*
> 
> *~*~*~*

Tugging at his tie, Phil cleared his throat as Tony slapped him on the back, smiling brightly. “Come on, Coulson, it’s your wedding day. You have to relax, my man,” he chuckled, the handler groaning softly and running a hand through his hair.

“I know that but I’m still…it’s new, that’s all,” Phil said in return, shaking his head with a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, I really don’t. I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

Tony chuckled and moved to the small bar that sat in against one wall in the bedroom. He had put it there, stocking it with soda’s and water for them while they got ready, Clint and Bruce getting ready in another room while Thor, Loki, who had come as his date surprisingly, Natasha, Pepper and everyone else that was there got ready in their own rooms. At least those who were staying at the Coulson family home. Everyone else would be arriving soon to watch the wedding and enjoy the following reception.

Pouring some lemon-lime soda into a glass with a few ice cubes, the genius handed over the glass, watching Phil pace back and forth, sipping at his drink. “It’s going to be fine, Phil. I have no doubt that it will be. Even with Sparky’s brother here, it will be fine.”

“Loki has already proven to us that he will behave,” Phil sighed, remembering how they had stared at a visibly younger Loki who looked rather shy. They had been told something had happened to make his magic turn on him and cleanse his body and memories of all that had happened in the last fifty years. He was much younger then he had originally been when he had attacked them and much sweeter.

More like the young male that Thor’s and Loki’s mother remembered with a fondness that only a mother could feel. Maria had taken one look at him and proceeded to adopt him, dragging him into the kitchen to teach like the rest of the family knew how to.

Chuckling softly, Phil finished his soda with a sigh and put it down. “He’s a good guy and I know that Clint was feeling weird around him but apparently getting drunk together and trading stories about dealing with the stupider people of each of our worlds helped them get past it,” he said, Tony groaning as he remembered that particular day after.

“I swear I would have thought that they were twins with how well they glared in tandem,” he snorted, shaking his head as he pulled on his own tie, smoothing it down and admiring the light blue against the dove gray color of his suit. Looking at Phil, he had to smile, admitting that the dark shade of the same color worked for both Phil and for Clint’s coloring.

Where as he and Bruce had lighter shades, Phil and Clint had gone with darker shades of the dove gray tuxedos and just slightly off white shirts instead of pristine; the dark blue ties adding just enough of a splash of color to really look good.

Rolling his shoulders, Tony groaned as a tap came from the door and Natasha stuck her head in. “Come on, you two, time to get going,” she teased, smiling and pulling back from the room, closing the door behind her.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Phil said, smoothing down his jacket before smiling at the man he called friend. “Let’s get this done.”

“Indeed my friend,” Tony chuckled, patting his shoulder and leading the way to where Clint stood on one side of the walk way that lead to the altar. Everyone was standing, smiling and watching them as Bruce and Tony took up their places at the altar while flower girls, nieces to Phil, walked down before the two men, dropping bloody red petals onto the ground. The wedding ceremony went well, everyone thinking it had been beautiful, even Loki smiling at the love that radiated off of the two men.

After the wedding, everyone headed to the backyard where the reception was set up under a very large tent with heaters making sure that everyone was comfortable. They had experienced an unexpected cold snap that made it hard for them to enjoy the reception without the heaters. The DJ was set up and playing music already, mixing it with slower songs, metal, some odd metal fusions and a few other artists that everyone could enjoy, the food set up in a corner and the tables scattered around.

The decorations were simple and beautiful. The tables were covered in dark blue short and white flowers sat in small glass vases, carefully arranged to allow line of sight to be undisturbed. Everyone knew where to sit and who to sit next to due to the small cards with names sitting before each place setting and they had to admire the way the food tables were set up, allowing them to get through the lines to get their dinners quickly. There was a drink bar that served basic drinks and various other non-alcoholic drinks for those that didn’t want beer or something like that. A dance floor was set up near the DJ booth and speakers but it wasn’t loud enough to blast anyone’s ears.

Smiling, Phil and Clint walked in, fingers laced together. Their guests stood when they saw them and clapped loudly, the two men feeling a little sheepish at the fact that they were the focus of attention. They were agents, they were supposed to be in the shadows.

“I want everyone to welcome Mr. and Mr. Barton-Coulson,” Tony introduced, clapping his hands as he held the microphone. “As you have noticed, we have a buffet that was created by the every so lovely Maria Coulson. Thank you, dear. Alex, you’re lucky you got her first, otherwise I would have stolen her away long ago,” he teased Phil’s father, getting a huff and a smirk from the man that looked a lot like Phil but older. Much older.

Phil groaned and shook his head, leading his lover to the dance floor. “We have first dance, Stark. Get lost. Go drown yourself in chocolate covered fruit,” he said, voice teasing as Tony laughed and nodded his head. Once Tony had put the microphone up, he walked off of the dance floor, leaving the two men to dance the first dance. The song that had been chosen was beautiful and simple but it worked for their relationship and marriage, Phil smiling as they pressed close to each other, just swaying together.

“Love you,” Clint breathed, brushing their noses together. Phil chuckled lowly and pressed a kiss to his lips, their eyes staying locked together.

“I love you to, my wonderful archer,” Phil hummed, brushing their lips together once more before pulling apart to dip his lover, making everyone watch laugh. Once the dance had finished, they headed to their own table, sitting and laughing lightly as Tony put a bottle of beer before each of them.

“Congratulations you two,” he said, sitting down with a smile, waving his own bottle of beer at the two men.

Clint chuckled and picked up his beer bottle, waving it at him in return. “Thanks. And thank you. For you know, paying for everything,” he said, Tony trying to look innocent.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Tony tried to say, wanting to pull off innocent but not quite doing so.

“Don’t bull shit us, Tony. We noticed that the wedding account hasn’t been touched but has instead grown,” Phil stated, reaching over and smacking his shoulder. “So take the thanks. And tell us what we’re supposed to do with nearly eighty grand.”

“Enjoy your two week honeymoon, take lots of pictures and relax before coming back to deal with this band of rowdiness,” Tony stated, sliding over an envelope before standing up. Trading looks, the two men opened the envelope and found a key to Tony’s home in the Bahama’s and first class tickets on their favorite airline.

Nearby Bruce leant over and kissed his lover slowly, happy that he had done such a sweet thing while Loki stared into a glass of champagne that had a strawberry floating in it. He smiled when Thor threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, the two brothers falling into conversation while the rest of the reception went on.

Phil and Clint slipped off to catch their flight soon after they opened presents and extracted a promise from Tony that he would take care of them.


	52. Fix Him 51 - End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fix Him  
> Fandom: Avengers  
> Chapter: 52  
> Characters: Phil/Clint  
> Word count: 1,877  
> AN: Last Chapter! Say goodbye to this story because it is done and over with!
> 
> Starting next week the posting schedule shall be: Whisper to Me Arc 1 Monday and Friday, Ministories on Wednesday.
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely reviews! I hope you keep reading what I have for you all. :D
> 
> *~*~*~*

Their first night together as a married couple had been spent sleeping off their jet lag from the flight to the house that Tony was loaning to them. Their first day was spent walking around a small village where two gay men didn’t draw any attention even as they bought things for their apartment. But after a dinner at a local restaurant where they had tried quite a few dishes, they had headed back to the home and locked it down.

Phil smirked as he watched his lover pack up their newly acquired items into crates and shipping containers. “I take it that you enjoyed yourself?” he asked, Clint smirking at him.

“Indeed. That one vase we bought Bruce will like, seeing as his birthday is coming up soon,” the archer chuckled, smiling at his husband. He was still so very awed that he had a husband and that he didn’t have to lie about what he did for a living. Phil knew what he did, and fuck if that didn’t make Clint feel good and safe.

“Good,” Phil hummed as Clint finished with his beer. “I have a request though for you,” he said, seeing his lover look interested.

“Oh?” Clint asked, picking up his bottle and looking at it,, trying not to look to interested.

“Yeah. I want you to fuck me,” Phil hummed, smirking at Clint, enjoying the wide eyed look from his husband. It wasn’t often that Phil allowed the younger man so much control, much less bottomed for him so it was a wonderful treat for their first time as husbands.

“Yeah?” Clint asked, smirking when Phil just smiled and headed for the bedroom that they had claimed as their own. Tossing his bottle away, the archer was quick to follow after his partner, intent on enjoying every bit of what was to come.

Once in their room, screened balcony door opened to allow the sounds outside in along with the breeze, Clint pulled Phil close, the two smiling as they stared at each other. Their hands rested on each other’s hips, Clint’s thumbs brushing over his husband’s waist band as they came together in an almost chaste kiss. They just moved their lips together before pulling to smile, lips barely brushing.

Clint already knew that he wanted to take his sweet time with his lover, knowing that they would have another week for their usual sexual acrobatics. For now, he was going to enjoy being with the other man and drive him well and truly crazy. Pulling away from the kiss, Clint hummed lowly and smirked, hands sliding under his partner’s shirt, stroking over soft skin and pulling it up.

Phil smiled slightly and lifted his arms up when his lover made him, chuckling as his shirt was pulled off and tossed to the side. He hummed as they came together in another kiss, both men moaning as the kiss deepened. Tongues tangled and slid, tasting as they chased back and forth, Clint sliding his hands down his husband’s lean back, making him moan.

Breaking the kiss, Clint licked his lips and smirked at the dark eyes that bored into his full of lust and love. Tugging his lover towards the bed, he pushed Phil down to sit on it, pulling his shirt off before kneeling down before his husband. He stripped off the handler’s shoes and socks, tossing them into the ever growing pile. Smiling, he stayed between Phil’s legs and initiated another kiss.

Phil moaned, wrapping his arms around Clint’s neck and shifting so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Clint hummed and stroked his hands down his husband’s ribs and then to his back, roaming up the strong muscles that he loved feeling. The handler smiled into the kiss as it broke once more, both men smiling with swollen lips.

“I forgot how much time you take to drive me nuts,” Phil chuckled, Clint smirking at him as he flicked open his husband’s khaki’s.

“Just lean back for me so I can get these pants open,” Clint stated, Phil chuckling lowly as he did so, leaning back on his hands. He lifted his hips, watching as the archer pulled his pants and boxers down, tossing them to the side onto the pile.

Humming softly, Clint eyed the body before him, feeling lust sing through him as he smirked at the sight. He loved how Phil worked so very hard to keep healthy, working out at least four days a week, especially since it showed so well in the strong muscles that shifted under strong, slightly scarred skin. Reaching out, he stroked his hands down from strong shoulders over strong pecs to tease at dark nipples before moving down lower to toned stomach and thighs. Phil was hard, his length curving upwards towards his stomach as his lover moved forward, bringing his face close to it.

Clint hummed a s he stroked his hands back up Phil’s thighs before he curled his fingers around the hard prick before him. Shifting on his knees, he licked his lips and leant forward to taste his lover’s cock, going from base to tip in one long lick. Phil moaned and fell back onto the bed, letting his partner do what he wanted, muscles twitching as the archer teased him with kisses to his hips, balls and prick, and the occasional lick.

Clint purred lowly as he teased and tasted, sometimes taking the cock into his mouth, wetting it to help his hand move over the hard length. He had plans on what he was going to do but he didn’t want to just jump into it. First he was going overwhelm his lover with pleasure before he moved on.

Flicking his eyes up to Phil’s face, he smirked at the panting, flushed male, brown eyes staring down at him. “Enjoying yourself there?” he purred, his husband groaning lowly as his head thumped back against the bed, eyes closed. Chuckling, Clint released the prick in his hand and stood, wincing at how tight his pants were feeling. “I need you to move back against the pillows, lover. I’m not young enough to be able to kneel on the ground for long while giving a blow job without padding.”

Phil chuckled, the sound rough, and moved to flop back against their pillows, Clint grabbing the lube that they had stashed when they had arrived at the house. “You will end up killing me one day,” he stated, his lover smirking.

“No, I won’t,” Clint chuckled as he climbed onto the bed, eyes bright with amusement and love. Straddling Phil’s lap, he leaned over and slowly kissed him, their hands wondering, Phil working on getting off his lover’s pants

“Why are you still wearing your pants?” he asked, freeing the hard prick that he could feel.

Clint just chuckled, sliding off of his lap and standing next to the bed, wiggling out of his jeans and boxers. “Because I was focused on teasing you,” he responded as he climbed back onto the bed. “And because I forgot about them.” He straddled Phil’s legs once more and smirked down at him. “Now, what to do with you?” he mused.

“Fuck me?” Phil suggested as he smirked at his lover. His hands came to rest on Clint’s thighs and just brushed the tips of his fingers over the soft skin there.

Clint hummed and moved to kneel between Phil’s legs, watching his husband move his legs into a more comfortable position. Picking up the bottle, he shook it hard and poured some of the lube into one hand, warming the slickness with a smirk. Cupping his lover’s sac with a wet hand, he used his other hand to trail down to the tight hole that he wanted.

Leaning over his lover, Clint took the tip of his lover’s cock into his mouth and sucked as he worked his hands over the balls and hole, sliding a finger past the ring of muscles. Humming as he felt Phil relax around his finger, he flicked his eyes up to his husband’s face, and slowly started to rock his finger in and out of the tight body. He mentally smirked as the other man moaned lowly, making sure that the muscles were relaxing before he added another finger.

As he worked his fingers in and out, Clint sucked on the hard prick before him, rolling his tongue around the hardness as his other hand gently tugged on the balls that he was holding. Phil groaned and twitched his hips upwards as he shuddered, slowly being driven crazy by the archer’s knowing hands. He barely noticed when a third finger worked its way into him alongside the other two fingers.

Groaning when Clint pulled off of his cock and pulled his fingers out, Phil opened his eyes and looked up at his partner as he slid up to leave over his partner. One hand came to rest on the bed next to his head while the other was between them, stroking on lube over Clint’s length. “Ready?” the archer asked, brushing their lips together, getting a smirk from the other male.

“What do you think?” Phil asked, feeling the prick press against his body and slip past the ring of muscles easily. He had to hiss at the burn that came with not having bottomed for a while, breathing slowly and relaxing once Clint had bottomed out.

Clint stroked his hands up and down Phil’s thighs as he watched his lover relax slowly. “You okay?” he asked, jaw clenching as he stopped himself from moving as he was squeezed.

“Yeah, I am,” Phil said after a few minutes, nodding his head with a smirk. He moaned when Clint curled his hand around his prick and stroked a few times, spreading the pre-cum around. “Fucking hell, move.”

Clint smirked and started to do just what his lover wanted him to do. He pulled out before rocking back in-wards, angling his thrusts to stroke over the nub of nerves that got growls of pleasure from Phil. His hand kept the even pace that he had set with his hips, getting low moans from his husband. He eventually started to move faster when he got demands for it, their climaxes tightening within their groins.

Phil was the first to come, gasping out Clint’s name as he spilled over his stomach and the moving hand. Clint grunted before he moaned and spilled, shuddering at the sudden high of pleasure. Slowly pulling out, he flopped down next to his still dazed husband before rolling towards him and laying his head onto his chest.

“Best honeymoon night ever,” Clint huffed, drawing a chuckle from his husband.

“Yeah, but we do have another five days here to make them all that much better,” Phil purred, Cling leering up at him as his hand dancing through the cum on his lover’s stomach.

They didn’t know what the future held for them, had no idea what villains would come at them much less what the Avengers would eventually get up to. But they had each other and that made all the difference.


End file.
